Aftermath
by MedicalNonsense
Summary: The world is a cruel place now-a-days and everyone needs someone right? When Italy comes to Germany crying and looking for help what else is Germany to do but offer a solution? Is this solution the right one though? Romano doesn't think so. Matur later.
1. Aftermath I Problematic

Ok, getting this show on se proverbial road then, to start off I only ever took about a semester of German so of course it sucks, if anyone wishes to help me with languages it would be much appreciated ^^; Soh, dis be meh first Hetalia fan-fiction no flaming plz, and as a note, since I have been "yelled" at in the past for not mentioning this, this is a guy x guy fan-fiction.

Also, you will frequently notice spelling errors that will have seemingly nothing to do with accents, for example, in a later chapter the word "traffic" is spelt "traffik" usually these are said by Germany who obviously has a lot gruffer language to contend with than English, just a heads up.

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The morning started off much as it had normally started for the past while, Germany got up out of bed, took a shower, got dressed and ate a quick breakfast. Next thing he had to do was go to his office, for hours most often, and deal with military problems and paperwork. Lately things had been a mess within his boarders, he really didn't like Spain and hated France even more because of it. He sighed to himself and pinched the bridge of his nose, moving to massage his tired eyes a moment later. Paperwork, worst invention ever.

"Germany! Germany!" The high, lovely voice of his best friend called, he eagerly looked up from his work to the brunette who was decidedly of more grim appearance than his slightly hoarse voice would lead one to believe. There was, however, his trademark smile and deep expressive eyes, though less bright than usual, but the rest of him was _completely_ wrong. Germany's automatic quirk of the lips dropped as he took in the whole sight of his fellow nation. They both had been so busy as of late, they really hadn't seen one another in nearly a week now. Germany was amazed at the changes that had occurred in just a near week. Granted, last he'd seen the boy he wasn't in particularly stellar shape, a war had just ended after all…

Italy was thinner now, a brace was around his right wrist and a few Band-Aids slapped haphazardly over his exposed body were still to be seen, sadly it didn't look to Germany as if the wrapped gash on Italy's leg was getting any better. He wore some of his civilian clothes and his hair was a mess, (more so than usual) his curious lock of hair drooped and his smile, once properly examined, rang as false as the merriment in his voice. The dullness in his eyes made them seem flat and listless, his skin was paler too, it had almost a green tone, as if he were still fighting some illness.

"Vhat ist de madder?" Germany shifted forward in his chair, closer to the Italian who was now tiredly leaning upon his desk; he laced his fingers together to rest his head on them and listened to what he had to say.

"N-nothing Germany! I'm completely fine!" Italy made a show of giving himself a once-over before continuing. "Well, I've been better but I'm certainly better than I have been for awhile!" Germany wasn't fooled by his friend's manufactured merriment, he was truly scared about something if he was lying like this.

"Hev a sead unt tell me all aboud it." Italy's smile faded, replaced by a very serious frown; he probably had never looked so serious in his entire life as he took the proffered chair in front of Germany's desk. He sat there for a few minutes twiddling his fingers, seemingly trying to think of a way to put what he had to say. It was difficult for him to even admit to _himself_ what it was he had come here for… It seemed so… Unreal…

Germany waited patiently as it appeared that this was really something that was getting to the boy, he had learned as a child that Italy had his skittish bouts, it was best just to listen.

"W-Well… I… That is… Romano and I… Myself especially…" Most often, Germany's patience for something like this would've run out quickly with all this beating around the bush… But the serious tone and the hoarseness of his voice only made him encourage Italy to take as much time as he needed. "We are… I'm sure you know, we are close to…" He really didn't want to say it, it was a tough word for him to say, partially because of the sheer weight of the word and partially because he was speaking of himself and his beloved brother. He stammered a few times more, unable to get anything to articulate, causing Germany to tap his fingers absently on his desk. "We are close to…" One more push. "Death."

Germany's hand froze, he was completely speechless.

"Vhat? I-Ist your boss really consitering…" Italy bit his lip, his eyes tearing and nodded his head, both he and Romano were close, Veneziano himself, having taken the worst of the damage, was closer than he. His brother, in all honesty, would be better off and perhaps would even have a chance at life if he were not there.

"I don't know what to do! I don't want to die!" The dam had broken loose and the man shamelessly sobbed into his hands. "A-And! It's not just that _I_ d-don't want to! Romano is going to too!" His sobs and coughs intensified, leaving Germany in the most awkward position he had been in yet. What could he do?! Nothing this bad had happened to him in a very long time, and in fact, he could never remember being this close to death. He had never been in this situation before, he could not comprehend the mortal terror that Italy was feeling. What did it feel like to die when you were a nation? Could Italy feel himself dying? Could Romano? A human knew when they were going to die after a fight most times, but nations, it could be so instant, there was no logical cause as to why their physical body tore itself apart in the end. And so, Germany did not know how to console Italy when it came to his impending death.

What could he do? There were really only a couple options, most of which had a high likelihood of failure. He couldn't just give these suggestions out to his young friends only have them give way and fail halfway though. No… So, there was only one option that worked every time… Though, as the thought dawned upon Germany, he didn't exactly know how receptive of this idea Italy would be…

"Italy, Italy. Calm down now. Dere ist a vay to fix dis." Germany reached across his desk and lightly laid one of his gloved hands on Italy's shoulder. Italy sniffed and looked up from his hands to his friend. Germany had withdrawn his hand from his shoulder and it now offered him a handkerchief. Gratefully, Italy accepted the small piece of cloth and blew his nose into it after wiping his eyes and face down.

Germany made a mental note to throw it into the wash later. But, maybe that wouldn't be necessary as Italy had yet to offer it back to him and was just clinging to it now as if it were a life raft.

"T-There is?" Italy finally asked as he wiped his nose again. Germany leaned back in his chair, giving the plan that had just sprung from the ethereal proper thought. In retrospect, it would have probably been a lot better of an idea to have done this _before_ saying he could fix Italy's situation because of the implications of the plan. His eyes wandered over to Italy and the look he saw in his eyes… That look of hope and single-hearted trust in his best friend sealed the deal. No matter the implications and damn whoever it was that would try to go against this, he was going to do whatever it was he needed to do to save his best friend and fellow nation. If it put a smile back on his face at the same time then it was just an added bonus.

Italy fidgeted nervously, afraid of what Germany might say if he decided to actually _kiss_ him if this idea worked, whatever it was. The suspense as Germany just sat behind his desk in thought was killing him. Was he going to take his plan back? Was he really doomed after all? He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, all this seemed to do was upset his already irritated body. A bolt of pain shot up his back and rang out within every cut and scar he had received from the whole stupid war. The boy _wished_ he could hold this pain against his big brother France and his other older brother Spain, but it wasn't their fault. They were following orders, a nation could not go against what his boss told him. They could complain and voice their concerns, but never could they _do_ anything. To blame France and to blame Spain was to be a hypocrite.

At long last, Germany sighed and leaned forward in his chair once again, the sudden noise causing Italy to jump and look up from his kerchief to the man. With baited breath he stared hopefully at the still half-pensive blonde, waiting for the plan that would save his life. He hoped.

"What is your plan?" He asked nervously, Germany sighed again and propped his elbows onto his desk, lacing his fingers together. After a few seconds more of deliberation, a look of resignation and calm blanketed the German's face and he began to speak.

"Vell, it schtarts vid me asking you: Vill you marry me?"

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_Edit_

Wow there really was no note section in chapter 1? Lol, I had long since forgotten this fact. Anyway, some accent corrections, grammar, there's a whole new paragraph (and a half) in there and some revisions have been done. I think it's funny this is actually like… the 11th chapter that I've edited, why did it take me so long to do the _first _chapter? Huh.


	2. Aftermath II Unnerving

Ok, I meant to post both chapters last night but I'm getting sick and passed out before I could finish this one ^^; Chapter 3 is about halfway written and should be up before long after this one. Soh, I give you AftermathII!

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"M-M-Marry you?!" Italy jumped up from his seat and backed away from the very serious Germany. "I-I-I can't! You're a man! I am too!" Italy rushed about the room, still clinging to Germany's handkerchief and giving all sorts of reasons why they should not _could_ not get married. Though his limbs all protested to his nervous, swift movements Italy could not stop himself, this would only end up in heartbreak surely if they married.

Germany listened to all of Italy's reasons sincerely, and upon a few thought were valid points, but really none of them none of them changed his mind in the slightest. Germany had made a point over the years of being a stubborn man and he wasn't going to stop now.

Tiring of watching the man rush aimlessly about with hurt limbs and possibly new internal bleeding due to this sudden rushing, he stood and walked over to him. He placed his hands gently on the other nation's shoulders, calming him with but a quick word, "Schtop dat." Or two.

"But, Germany we can't." He whined at the blonde, his head drooping to look at the floor. As long as he kept telling himself that, it didn't matter how he _really_ felt about it.

"Yes ve cahn unt it vill save you. Vill save your bruder." Germany felt it necessary to add. Italy leaned forward into the German's chest, his best friend was willing to appear before other nations as his husband, as gay, as a… A faggot… To save his life. He knew that he would never, ever be able to repay Germany for this. "It vill save you boud. Unt, if you soh vish, aht de ent of all dis, ve cahn divorce." Germany continued as Italy only half-heartedly listened.

_ Divorce?_ Would he even want to? Ever? Italy didn't know, he was letting the fast beats of his friend's hear pull him in and convince him that maybe this whole "marriage" thing wasn't such a bad idea. Really, what was the harm in it? They already had no reservations about sleeping with one another and Italy virtually lived with him before all this craziness ensued.

"Unt, if you cahn'd do it for yourself, do it for your bruder." Germany had been going on the whole time, but Italy hadn't heard him, he was still thinking of his own reasons to do it. Interpreting his silence as quiet refusal, Germany continued. "I'm not saying dat he's better off vidout you. I'm jus telling you dat if you two vere dif'rnd nations it vould give boud of you a better chance aht survivahl." He was _not_ ready to take no for an answer, not when this was the only sure-fire way for his friend to survive. "_Ich liebe dich mein fruend… bitte überlegs dir._"

The German plea had no meaning to Italy, it did seem odd to him that Germany was pleading with him to marry him in the first place… But stranger things had indeed happened to him and he wanted to live.

"Okay… I'll marry you. Thank you." Italy leaned up and quickly kissed Germany on the cheek as he often did in greeting, Germany not knowing just how much was behind that simple kiss. All the same, Germany's face started burning fire-engine red as it always did, for such an experienced man he was so easy to embarrass.

As the fire made its way up Germany's neck and spread to his whole face, he sincerely hoped that his face wasn't as red as it sure felt. "I neet to finish up here and ged de papers for registration, you should go tell Romano. He'll vant to know vhy half of de country is also German." Italy frowned and remembered that in marrying Germany, north Italy would be divided from the South, splitting his nation in two and leaving half the country completely to his older brother… Chances were, Romano was not going to be happy about this, he was never happy about anything much now a days.

"Okay…"

"Ahre you not okay vid dis?" Germany asked his seemingly less than enthusiastic friend. These nervous thoughts were dashed as a beautiful, sincere smile lit up the Italian's face before he answered.

"Of course I'm okay with it! I'm getting married! To my best friend Germany no less!" His sheer enthusiasm despite his grim appearance coaxed a small smile from Germany. He positively adored his friend, at least this whole "marriage of convenience" thing wouldn't be something forced. Italy _was_ his best friend and, comparatively, he got along splendidly with him.

"_Ciao_ Germany! I'll be by later to sign things! We can have pasta!" The cheery brunette bounced out of the room, leaving Germany to his contemplations.

Once the door had been closed behind him and he was alone in the hallway, the gloomy cloud re-placed itself about Feliciano's head. Marry Ludwig? He sighed to himself as he started off down the hall to Germany's front door.

Sure, yes, he did have feelings for the nation, but this marriage was political, it didn't really have meaning beyond that Ludwig was really a true friend. A friend willing to sacrifice at least his availability to the few female nations their were and a little bit of his dignity just so he could live. He even said that they could divorce later once proper stability was reestablished within himself. He supposed that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea, nothing was going to change between them and the divorce would be mutual… Hopefully. They would still be friends… Hopefully.

"Lovino! Lovino!" Feliciano called through the house he shared, hoping his brother hadn't gone out.

"What is it Veneziano?" his older brother growled from somewhere in the kitchen, he'd been so irritable since the war with Spain and France ended. Feliciano had just been depressed. "How did your visit with the potato freak go?" Not that Lovino really cared, he had plenty reason to be in a bad mood since Antonio and Francis had made it seem to be the Vargas brothers' fault the war had started in the first place. Much like what had happened to Germany in WWI… Really no one believed them, but they had to shut the nations and their bosses up somehow.

"Oh! Great! Actually… I bet you won't ever guess what Ludwig asked me!" Feliciano seemed full of pep today as he goaded his older brother and merrily skipped into the kitchen. Lovino was standing over a large pot, presumably containing pasta, his brother's liveliness certainly was of interest but he ignored it for the moment.

"You're right, I won't." Lovino continued to make the pasta, stubbornly uninterested in his brother's trip to visit with the Kraut.

"Well… It's kinda important. Uhm… Could you put the stirring ladle down first?" Lovino sighed and let the metal spoon sit in the pot with the noodles as he looked up to hear what Feliciano had to say. "You see… Ludwig asked me to marry him." His brother didn't move a muscle, clearly waiting for what Feliciano's answer to the proposal was. "… And I said yes."

"You did what?!" The hot, metal spoon connected swiftly with Feliciano's head, knocking him to the floor.

"Ow! That huuurt!" Feliciano whined as his brother's infuriated form came to loom over him.

"You said 'yes'?! Why?! Don't I have a say in this?!" Feliciano had never seen his brother _this_ angry before, quickly he scrambled backwards from him, hitting the back of his head on the kitchen wall behind him.

"W-W-Well, it's only my half of Italy! A-And! You'll be a lot better off if you only have to take care of your half! Its better this way!"

"Did he tell you that!?" Lovino growled to himself and began to think of all sorts of ways to make Ludwig's life a living hell. "Can't you marry someone else other than Germany?!"

"What's wrong with Ludwig? He's nice! He's been my best friend since World War One! He offered a plan to keep us from dying!"

"But he doesn't feel the same way that you do! You know that! Don't be such an idiot Feliciano!" Lovino didn't know who he wanted to hit more just then. His brother was stupid, but that asshole Kraut had suggested this asinine plan! The sudden sting of a healing rotator cuff reminded him that he was in no condition to be hitting anyone. He was amazed that Feliciano was able to move as well as he could.

"I know he doesn't but… He's being a good friend… What am I supposed to do but say yes? This will save us both remember?"

"So you're abandoning me for that damn Kraut? We can fix this all by ourselves, you don't nee--Hey! Don't you just get up and walk away from me!" Lovino followed Feliciano to their room where he then proceeded to pack some of his clothes and favorite things into a suitcase. "You're really leaving…?"

"Lovino, Ludwig just saved us both in this, he's expecting me soon today to sign papers and for dinner. I'm not abandoning you, anytime you need to talk just say so and I can come by for pasta!"

The older brother shied away from his semi-cheery twin, he really _was_ picking Germany over him…

"Okay…" Lovino replied feeling defeated as Feliciano walked up to him, suitcase in hand. Feliciano kissed him once on each cheek before smiling at him.

"I love you Lovino and I'll see you soon!" As he set off down the hall from their room towards the front door, he was stopped by a heavenly aroma floating from the kitchen. He turned to face the kitchen and the boiling pot of noodles, the smell of pasta was simply over powering. And it probably _was_ done by now…

"I thought you said that the Kraut was expecting you soon." Lovino reminded the younger one after he swallowed a mouthful of pasta and sauce.

"Ah, he had work to do anyway." Lovino couldn't help but glare at Feliciano, obviously he had forgotten his lie from earlier already. He was idiotic and simple, but a very lovable person all the same, and it was for this reason why it was impossible to hold a grudge against him. Holding a grudge against Germany? Now that was something Lovino could do forever. However, the moment Feliciano set foot outside of this house, he would have to beg to be let back in! Lovino smirked, finding himself deliciously clever. The other didn't notice and kept inhaling his pasta. "Ah nothing is better than your cooking Lovino." Feliciano managed to say in between breaths of noodles.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh! Ludwig is okay, but he prefers potatoes and sausage over pasta."

"How sad." Feliciano nodded up a storm in whole-hearted agreement. Lovino just then took a bite of a tomato as Feliciano noticed the time.

"Ah! Is it really 17:00 already!? Ahh! Ludwig's gonna be angry!"

"Then don't go." Feliciano had already pecked his cheeks and hefted his suitcase to the door before Lovino had even begun to speak. He sprung up to give chase to his brother only to stop at the front door and yell "Don't just walk out on me you idiot!" He sighed and frowned to himself, looking back into the house. Even though all of Feliciano's junk was still there it still seemed different knowing that this wasn't really Feliciano's home anymore. His home was with Germany, not with his own brother…

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"Vhat vere you doing?" Germany asked once he heard Italy entering his home and starting for the kitchen. Germany had already started cooking their dinner in his absolutely spotless kitchen. A strange combination of pasta, wurst and potatoes had Italy staring down into the large pot despairingly. Pasta, wurst _and_ potatoes? It sounded nasty in his gourmet opinion, but for his future husband's benefit he'd at least try it, no ones food could be as bad as England's if they tried after all.

"Romano was being silly is all." Germany grunted to let Italy know he heard him as he discreetly examined the Italian from afar for any cuts or bruises that hadn't been there earlier. There appeared to be a new bruise forming on Italy's head, so his brother had hit him, Germany shook his head, slightly disappointed in Romano. "Uhm, where are the papers?" Italy couldn't remember ever having been this nervous about something since Holy Roman Empire had gone off to fight. Whatever happened to his first love? He frowned after deciding that he really didn't know.

"Dey're in de… Vhat's vrong now?"

"Nothing!" Italy smiled and bounced towards the German as enthusiastically as he could manage. He should be happier about this and think less of the past. He was getting married for chrissake!

"If you say soh… I figured ve coult sign dem ahfter dinner." Italy nodded and re-examined the food, his stomach still a bit dubious. "Don'd look aht it ahs if it vere Englant's foot." He tried, he really did! But, in the end it wasn't much better according to Italy. Germany on the other hand thought it wasn't all that bad and even decided upon making it again later in the week perhaps. Italy's stomach convulsed at the idea, a small pain no more than a pin prick came alive in his stomach.

_ Ludwig Beilschmidt _"_Germany_"

_ Feliciano Vargas_ "_North Italy_"

Read the signature bars on the registration form, Germany's heart beat furiously against his sternum as he read them. Italy wasn't much different, he was very nervous still about this, but he did have until tomorrow to back out, they didn't drop off the form at registration until tomorrow morning…

"Vell, husbant…" Germany paused, it was so weird to say, especially to Italy. "Shall ve-"

"Can I call you Ludwig?" Feliciano asked Germany, effectively cutting him off. Germany blinked and looked at the shorter man questioningly.

"You don'd hev to ahsk Italy."

"Then call me Feliciano, we are married after all…"

"Feliciano." He could never remember having actually used his real name before, it did roll of the tongue certainly. Ludwig was too absorbed in telling himself to call him Feliciano rather than Italy that he missed the shudder that ran up Feliciano's back. "Vell, Feliciano. Shall ve goh to bet? I voult like to ged to registration early tomorrow, I vaitet in line an hour jus to ged de form to begin vid." Feliciano smiled at Ludwig and stood.

"Uh-huh!" Ludwig did find it slightly odd that Italy had just bolted away from him down the hallway…

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_ That jerk… _Lovino thought to himself as he lay in the half-empty bed he and Feliciano shared. He might not have been able to stay angry at Feliciano for long, but Germany was sure going to pay for this. One way or another he was going to get his brother back from that sadistic fuck. Even if he had to make his brother unhappy to do it, he would forgive him before long. Germany was a terrible man deep inside! He knew he was! He would make Feliciano see it too! No man that would just do what his boss said without protesting was a good person! No one that stood idly by as millions were killed for merely being different was good! No one!

He growled and sat up in bed, reaching for his bedside table, he picked up the phone and dialed a number. He was going to damn-well know what the hell was going on with his brother and Germany at all times. Better yet, he knew _just_ who he could get to help him.

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The next morning went swimmingly, from now on Ludwig and Feliciano were husband and, well, husband. Italy cheerfully put his arm through Germany's as they left the building, a big smile plastered to his face.

Suddenly Germany remembered something and looked down at Feliciano. "Oh, ve hev a meeding today by de vay."

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Ich leibe dich mein fruend… Bitte uberlegs dir.-- I love you my friend… Please consider.

There will be more German later, I just hope that I didn't screw up the whole language within one sentence with that ;_; Really if anyone cannot stand to see their language butchered and would like to help me I would love you forever.

_Edit_

The German for this chapter has been corrected thanks to JanesRedBottle :) thank you


	3. Aftermath III Headaches

_Ok third chapter, I've eaten so many cough drops my stomach hurts . But whatever. Also, you might notice that I love Gilbert X)_

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_Awkward… The only way to describe the trip to the meeting was awkward. Germany didn't speak much as he drove and Italy rambled on and on about something, they both were nervous about this. Germany less than Italy because he knew the others would see this as more of a political thing than anything else. But it was not like anyone (aside from Prussia and Romano) already knew about it or anything, so initial glances wouldn't be any more awkward. Well, about that Germany's stomach was tied up in knots. He had told Gilbert this morning before Feliciano had woken up that they were married, his brother loved to be an ass about things like that, he probably would tell everyone about it. But the man was his brother and had to tell him something,_ it wouldn't have been right to keep his family in the dark. At first the man yelled and carried on about it as a concerned family member would, but by the end he was laughing and congratulating him. He loved his brother, but he was a colossal pain in the ass sometimes.

Italy, on the other hand, was more afraid that Germany would get angry at him because he would regret marrying him. What about Romano? Would he be there? Would he taunt them in front of everyone? Would Ludwig beat him up about it? He sure hoped not.

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"Alright! Let's get this show on the road!" America, almost untouched by the war, enthusiastically began as he scribbled on the dry-erase board.

"The war is over and settled, what are we doing here?" France snorted as he tossed his hair, indignant, earning himself a glare from England. Arthur had been really pissed about the whole thing and had ended up siding with Italy and Germany. After France attempted to drag Canada into the war, America sided with Germany as well. Spain was simply playing the whole thing down, almost acting as if he hadn't nearly started World War Three. The whole thing only lasted a little under two years, short by most terms, but devastating all the same.

"We're actually here t'discuss aid to Italy… Speaking of whom, where the Hell is he? And where's Germany?" There was a gruff and hissing chuckle "kesesese" from the back of the room, somewhere in the general vicinity of Russia.

"Who vas zet da?" Ivan looked around for the voice with interest. It was just _so_ very familiar…

"I'm nod fucking Canada, Russia!" Prussia growled at the man sitting next to him, why in the Hell had he even sat next to this man!? Oh that's right, it had been the only chair left… Russia turned his head very slowly, it reminded Gilbert of the cogs within Germany's cuckoo clocks, to face the man, his violet eyes were particularly violent today… Well, perhaps it had something to do with his fight with Poland this morning over Lithuania. Even on normal days Gilbert and Ivan didn't get along, his sweet and innocent set him more on edge then when the man really did look angry. It was as if everyone else's pain was just a big joke to the massive man.

"I'm sorry, vhat? I ditn'd hear you. Say again, da?" Ivan smiled at him, his bright eyes sparkling with something that Gilbert could only call cruelty.

"Uh… Noding…" Prussia rather liked living… He still had reminders, mental and physical of just _how_ cruel the man was from his time as the German Democratic Republic.

"Zet's vhat I zought so." Russia smiled and resumed looking straight ahead. Apparently America had been going on about something to him for the duration Gilbert and Russia had been talking and staring at one another.

"Prussia! Do you or do you not know where they are?!" America was on edge today too, the whole damn world was! Really though, he didn't have much of a nation left, so really he couldn't get involved with today's troubles. Gilbert sighed, on the personal level of the nations many of them were having relationship issues, he was one of the few that was not, mostly because he wasn't in one. He didn't _need_ to be in love to be happy, not that he was saying others did, he just didn't care. He laughed at America before answering curtly, "Maype I do, maype I don'd. Dey're provaply on deir vay by _now_ dough."

"Well, where else would they be?" Just then, the door to the meeting room was shoved open as a very frazzled Italy was pushed in, followed by an irritated Germany. Italy's head was wrapped in bandages but for some odd reason looked better than he had the past week. Germany's usually gelled back hair, meanwhile, was sticking out at odd places and he looked tired. "Ah, look who it is! How nice it was of you two to join us! What kept you?"

"Traffik." The last syllable was growled as Germany moved to take his seat by Gilbert. The red-eyed man sniggered at him before he began to speak in his usual patronizing tone.

"Soh, how ist _Frau_ Italy dis morning?"

"He's nod a voman Gilbert, schud up."

"Hey, I'm jus trying to be-"

"You're trying to be obnoxious, sid down und schud up, _lästig_." Prussia snorted at his brother and looked across the table to Italy as he sat down next to his own brother. Unlike with Ludwig and Gilbert, neither said anything, Romano even turned away from his brother. Obviously they weren't as cool with each other when it came to this after all, Prussia thought. Perhaps he would talk with Romano later, if he had a problem with Italy marrying his brother, by God he was gonna find out why.

The meeting carried on, there was the usual yelling and animosity, but when England and France got going it was worse than how it used to be between them. They hadn't fought like this since the war had started, granted neither of them saw the other much during. The two never really showed that they really were involved with one another, ever. Not at meetings, not in public, not when friends were around. The only things that made it show were when one of them had an unsightly blemish the other did too around the same area, France was constantly bugging England at his house and it was always _very_ obvious when they had been fighting. Today was definitely an obvious day.

"Jus' sit down and shuh up ya goddamn prat! And stay at ya own goddamn house t'night!" England stormed from the room, France, too proud to give chase, sat down and crossed his arms with a huff. Just as England left, the horrid cacophony of a hundred voices rose to a crescendo.

"Hey! Hey!" America waved his arms back and forth like a retarded goose for attention. "Up here! I can't be the hero here if no one listens t'me!" The bickering froze as everyone turned to stare at Alred, his spectacles slipped slowly down his nose as everyone glared at him, well, everyone save for Canada and Japan. Japan was off in his own little world and Canada… Where was Canada anyway? Alfred looked to the last place he had seen his brother Matthew only to find Kumajirou occupying it all alone. "Uhm, does anyone know where Canada went?" There were simultaneous grunts and shrugs all over the room, no one seemed to know or particularly care. America looked pointedly across the table to the albino sitting next to the German. He rose his hands like "vhat're you lookin' aht me for". The blonde rolled his eyes once he realized that the Prussian didn't really seem to care either.

"Who?" Kumajiro squeaked as only he could. Noise erupted again and America sighed, today just wasn't a good day for anyone was it? He himself had had his own problems and reasons for not wanting to be here, but at least he wasn't taking it out on everyone else.

"Voult ef'ryvon jus schud up!?" The Beilschmidt brothers yelled at the entire congregation in unison, both Italys took shelter beneath the table. Once again the room was silent and Germany coughed into his hand to clear his voice again as Prussia took his seat next to his brother.

"Aboud de siduation in Italy, I hev nuvs." Of course he would, why was anyone letting America run this anyway?

"Ah, please share it with us Germany." America said trying to have some semblance of leadership in this.

"A new German-Italian alliance hes been formt, it ist expecdet to bring qvick reliev to de people by separading de mosd vountet hef from de hef dat vill hev de besd chance aht surfifahl."

_Like amputating a diseased limb…_ Spain thought to himself, looking over to Romano. Whispers rang throughout the room as everyone once again took their seats to listen to the nation. The Italys also returned to above-table to listen to what was being said about them.

"And what of the more damaged half, aru?" China asked, attempting not to look at Veneziano. Germany took a breath and folded his hands behind his back, time to take the plundge.

"De more… Damagt… Hef hes been temporarily annext by me." The room was silent as everyone considered what that meant when it came to the countries personal self.

"Temporarily you say? Is it expected that later you will be dissolving this union?" Spain asked, everyone turning to look at him as if he were planning to try to take over Italy again, really though, he wasn't the least bit interested in doing so. He had only been following his boss's orders when he invaded, he actually was quite fond of both the brothers, especially Lovino. To say he was _fond _of Lovino was the understatement of the year. Germany gave Italy a quick glance before answering.

"Dat remains to be seen. Bud, schoult de neet arise it vill become indefinide." He hoped he didn't sound half as nervous as he felt about the whole thing.

"And South Italy?" Antonio asked, sitting up straight in his chair.

"Ait vill be provitet by myselv und any oder dat vishes to. Odervise, he und 'is people vill be lefd to dere own defices." Murmurs were heard again as England stepped back into the room and resumed his seat next to America.

"Wot did I miss?" He asked the general congregation.

"Schpeaking of who vill be proviting assisdance to Soud Italy." England raised a bushy eyebrow and asked "Wot about North Italy, 'e's more 'urt 'en 'e is."

"You misst my announcmend earlier…"

"Oh, wot was it then?"

"Italy and Germany are getting married." Alfred whispered down into Arthur's ear. His eyebrows about flew off his face, nearly everyone had to stifle their laughter. France, Germany and the two Italys being the only ones who had no need. Italy, both of them were looking at Germany, one in adoration, the other in total unadulterated hatred.

"Oh, I s'pose a round of congratulations are in order then?" Neither Germany or Italy could stop from smiling as everyone congratulated them on their new union and wished them luck for the future. Everyone except Lovino that was, everyone was just so goddamn happy that Germany was taking his brother away! Everyone was just so goddamn happy that Germany's lands were expanding! Before long people were gonna be so damn happy when World War III actually _did_ start! Spain noticed his less than pleased expression and sighed, today was not going to be a day to finally apologize, definitely, some other day maybe, a day that wasn't so crazy.

England was first to speak once the congratulations stopped. "I would also like ta supply aid ta Romano here annaone else?"

"I'm the hero, so I'm in too!" America plopped down into his seat, England rolled his eyes and said nothing. Romano, meanwhile, looked furious, but wasn't about to say anything to England, Hell no, this was England! He would harp at America later though. He looked pointedly at his brother next to him only to see that he wasn't even paying attention to anything anyone was saying now that the conversation had moved on to other things. He was staring at Germany and it seemed Germany had only just noticed. Prussia laughed at something and slapped his brother on the back, making a crass comment at something someone said, breaking the eye contact he and Italy had shared.

Feliciano sighed, the morning hadn't really started out too well, beyond the getting married thing of course, which they had to return to registration today to get finalized. This meeting was soooo boring, so, he went off into his own little Italian world and thought about how the morning had gone.

"_Ludwig, maybe we shouldn't tell them about this yet." Feliciano said, fidgeting with his hands in his lap._

"_Vhy schoult'd ve? It's impordand information de vorlt neets to know." Ludwig kept his eyes on the road._

"_I-I-I was just thinking…"_

"_Since vhen do you take nodice of vhat anyvon dinks of you?"_

"_It's not about what people think of me…"_

"_I don'd neet you prodecding me, I propost to you, nod de oder vay arount. I askt you full knowing vhat coult be sait aboud me und you, I am fully prepart to be schtaret aht."_

"_B-B-But, what if they-"_

"_It doesn'd madder vhat dey'll do or say. Dis ist to safe you und your bruder, dey von'd objecd und dey von'd say anyding derogadive aboud me."_

"_How do you know?" Germany slowly turned his head, not totally unlike a cog in a cuckoo clock, a look of "who de hell do I look like?" plastered intimidatingly on his face. Italy backed away from him as Germany returned his eyes to the road, having made his point. "Uhm… Germany… Ludwig… I… Uhm…"_

"_If you're going to say it spid it oud if you're nod going to, be qvied."_

"_I… I lo-Am gonna be sick!"_

"_Buh-Vhat?!" Ludwig slammed on the breaks causing Feliciano to fly forward and hit his head on the dashboard. "Ah! Italy!" He tore off his seatbelt and ran around the car to the passenger side door. "Italy!" He grabbed the man's shoulders and pulled him back from the 'board of the car to see his head, it was bleeding a little, but it looked worse than it was. "Ahre you alrighd?" Italy nodded as best he could, at least Germany had been obeying the speed limit. "Arhe you schtill feeling sick?" Italy's stomach lurched the, quickly, he directed himself towards somewhere… Not Germany. He wretched into the driver's seat next to him, his large breakfast and a bit of blood, sprayed over the wonderful interior of Germany's car. And Germany, not a squeamish man, nearly lost it._

My car!!!_ His inner monologue screamed for mercy at him, he was going to scrub the color straight from the leather before he ever drove this car again. "Italy, ahre you alrighd?"_

"_I…" Italy examined what he had just done. "I'm sorry Germany! Please don't hit me!" His arms flew up to protect himself, Germany caught them and put them gently down by his sides._

"_I von'd hid you Italy, you're sick, it's okay. Ve neet to ged you to a hospidal or someding." Carefully, Germany undid his seatbelt and picked the smaller man up and held him against his chest. It was only after he turned around that he realized that they had drawn quite a crowd. Many of his people, especially the children had stopped to stare at him as they did not commonly get to see him in the flesh. "_Ich brauche einen Krankenwagen_!" Some quickly took out their cell phones to dial, but, in fact, one even offered to drive them to the hospital himself. Germany thanked the man profusely as he climbed into the back of his car, Italy's head resting in his lap once inside. Germany sighed and picked his phone from his pocket, why hadn't he thought of using it a moment ago? Even he didn't seem capable of thinking straight under pressure. No matter. Holy crap he'd left his keys in the car… He highly doubted anyone would try to steal it though…_

"Hallo_, Roderich? It's Germany."_

"_I figured, what do you want Ludwig?"_

"_I hev to take Italy to de hospidal, cahn you come by und pick up my car?" Austria was silent for a moment._

"_Alright, why are you not in it though? It doesn't sound like you're in an ambulance."_

"_Italy drew up in de drivers side sead… Soh unsanitary…" He shivered thinking about how very not fun it was going to be to scrub._

"_Ew, so you want me to-"_

"_I lefd de keys in de car!"_

"_Alright, alright, I'll go, I'm not attending today anyway." Germany almost asked him why not but just gave him the street name instead._

"_Gilbert's going to be soh annoying aboud dis." He mumbled to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose._

"_He's annoying about everything. Why should this be any different? I'm a little bit curious as to why you're even bothering to comment upon it."_

"_I'll tell you lader. Dank you und goodbye." Ludwig flipped his phone closed and rubbed his temples, groaning._

"_You told Prussia?" Germany opened one eye and looked down at the sick man in his lap. "_Ja_, bevore you voke up." Italy just nodded and curled onto his side, his face in Ludwig's stomach. "He's _mein bruder _avder ahll." They didn't speak for the rest of the carried and not much at the hospital._

_Italy's doctor passed his vomiting off as nerves and stress, considering the war that had not ended too long ago it was understandable. The blood in his vomit was caused by minor internal bleeding which had already ceased, his upset stomach had set off the bleeding in the first place according to him. He suggested that Italy take it easy and relax for awhile since he now had Germany to take care of things for when he couldn't. It was a sweet sentiment really but too bad they still had to make it to the meeting today. So much for "low stress" environment. His head, on the other hand, was perfectly fine, the skin had been broken but the skull and brain inside were just fine. There were jokes about Italy's hard head made and a prescription written for a notoriously effective pain killer._

_Germany snorted to himself as they exited the hospital about an hour after they had arrived. Now it was time for the meeting, he had a feeling it wasn't going to be a good one either._

"Italy… Italy… _Hallo_! Italy!" A deep, reverberating voice broke through his downtime trance. The room had mostly emptied by now, Romano had even left. Japan was still there for whatever reason, Prussia too by Germany's shoulder. England and America were also still present, both talking to one another down at the other end of the room. "Feliciano, de meeding is ofer."

"Where's Lovino?" Germany stood up straight and looked around the room.

"He lefd I guess. You neet to ged home dough."

"But I really should talk to him, he was upset today."

"Ah, don'd vorry aboud 'im! He'll be fine vid Englant und America vid 'im!" Prussia yelled as he heartily slapped Feliciano on the back. "Soh, how's de heppy couple today? Mint telling your bruder vhat it vas you vere doing to make you lade earlier?" Prussia quirked his eyebrows a few times, a mischievous smile on his face. While Ludwig simply turned a very unflattering shade of red, Italy missed the innuendo completely.

"What?" Germany cleared his voice before speaking.

"Gilbert, ve vere aht de hospidal."

"De hospidal? Vhat? Dit you ged schtuck?" Germany groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, there were probably going to be marks before long with how much he seemed to be doing it lately. Sometimes, he decided, correctly guessing his brother's behavior was a total pain in the ass.

"_Nein_, Italy drew up in de car on de vay ofer. Soh, ve hat to schtop." Gilbert looked down at Italy just then with a little bit of sympathy in his eyes.

"Soh, vaid, you… Drofe hier avder he drew up in your car?"

"Noh, I callt Roderich to come pick up de car und rote in de back of somevon else's car to de hospidal."

"Soh how dit you ged hier?"

"Ve took a cap…"

"…. Awesome." Prussia laughed.

"_Ja, ja,_ schud up."

"You schoult goh home den. I sure don'd vanna ged sick."

"But the doctor said I was only-" Feliciano began to complain, quickly cut off by Germany.

"Feliciano!" He flinched away from his husband and nearly tried to pull away from Ludwig when he grabbed his wrist and firmly hauled him up from his seat. "You ahre going home und schleeping. Ve cahn hev von of your 'siesta's' togeder if you vant." It felt odd to Germany to have to order Italy to take a nap, usually he was yelling at him to get out of his bed and put some pants on, but the whole world seemed to be crazy right now.

"Okay! Okay! Please don't hit me!" For the third time in two days Germany responded with "I'm nod going to hid you." He mussed Italy's hair. "Jus go." He then leaned down and pecked Feliciano once on each cheek before ushering him towards the door.

"Awww! Dat's soh schveed!" Gilbert taunted as Germany left the meeting room, his face beet red.

---

Romano on the other hand, was off speaking with Canada. "Did you do it?"

"Yes, but I don't know why you picked me…" Matthew confessed, totally confused about this whole plan.

"I knew America wouldn't do it." Romano replied as Matthew stood speechless before him, he sort of wished he had Kumajiro with him. "Also, you're the only one that could leave during a meeting and no one notice." He did have a point Matthew thought, though he was slightly mean about it. "Well, America noticed, but no one really cared."

"Okay… Well, I did it, did Alfred offer help like you said he would?"

"Of course. England is pissed at France and America is an attention whore so if England was in so was he."

"Why did you want me to again?"

"Hmph, my idiot brother married Germany."

"That's wonderful! But… Why are you spying on them then?"

"Are you kidding me?! It's the worst thing to happen yet!"

"I don't understand…" Romano cursed to himself, not wanting to have to explain just _how_ terrible a person Germany really was.

"Romano! Canada!" Both of them jumped as America advanced on them with a smile and open arms, England was right behind him. Had they heard what they had been talking about?! "Matthew, where did you get off to during the meeting?" Apparently not. At least America hadn't. And it didn't really matter if England had heard or not. If he started getting violent with either of them America would get pissed about him assaulting or insulting his brother and the allied nations would come to Lovino's aid considering his rather precarious condition.

"Nowhere really. I was just bored with no one noticing I was there is all." He smiled to his brother, happy that at least _someone_ noticed, even if it was only his brother… That meant his best friend didn't even notice… His head drooped to the side slightly.

"Oh, also!" America reached into the back of his coat and produced the small polar bear from it.

"Ah! Kumashiro!" He took the bear from his brother and buried his face into the fur between his ears.

"Who are you again?" Kumajiro asked trying to look up but not succeeding in doing so as Canada still had his face snuggled between the bear's ears. America couldn't help but smile at his brother, sometimes he could act just so damn cute!

"Well, while 'ey act like th' brothers 'ey are, 'ow've you been?" Arthur asked Romano, who shrugged, he looked better today at least, he didn't seem near as stiff, results were already showing so soon…

"Thanks for the help I guess. I can't really say anything else."

"Wot'd you think of ya brother marryin' Germany?"

"Yeees, vhat _do_ you dink aboud it?"

"'Ello Prussia…" England stared at the man behind Lovino, the same man that was now leaning on his shoulder now. Canada looked away from America for a moment, narrowing his eyes at Prussia slightly. There was something going on in that brain of his, call it _more_ than just a hunch.

"Mint if I take 'im for a momend?"

"'Ell I-"

"_Danke schön."_ Prussia threw Romano over his shoulder and bolted down the hall with him, the three blondes giving chase not a moment later.

"Put me down you imitation nation!"

"Schud up up dere! I'm awesome und you know it!"

"You don't even have a birthday!"

"Schud up! I'm trying to lose somevon hier!"

"You're yelling too!" Prussia skidded around a corner, slinging Romano like a rag-doll under his arm while his other hand clamped down over his mouth. The mad dash came to an end as Prussia tore open a janitorial closet and threw Romano inside it, closing the door behind them.

"Prussia! What is your problem!? Help!!!"

"Schud up, dammid! You vill tell me vhat I vant to know!"

"Oh, so what, you're Russia now?"

"Nefer compare me to him." Prussia leaned in pressing Romano to the wall of the closet. In some attempt to defend himself, Romano flung his arms up to protect his face, only to have Prussia catch them and hold them above Romano's head. "Now den," Prussia glared down at the shorter nation. "vhat do you hev against Ludwig?"

"He's a terrible person is what I have against him. He killed over six million people because his boss told him to!"

"He safet your arsch in de var! Ist dis de vay you dank him?!"

"Stop changing the damn subject!"

"I vill change it ahs I please!"

"Let go of me!" A hand laid itself out over Romano's face, causing him yelp and glare defiantly at his former ally.

"My bruder ist a _very_ loyal man! It takes somevon of de highesd schtanting to goh againsd his _own_ morals for de sake of rules!" Prussia angrily defended his little brother, spit flying into Romano's face.

"He doesn't have morals! He doesn't have a goddamn mind of his own!"

"Voult you say dat Schpain doesn'd?!" There was silence between the two for that moment as Romano seemed to stare off into space. Would he say that…?

"No!" The Italian concluded forcefully.

"Vell I'm sensing a double schtantart here! Schpain attacks you because his boss sait so und it's okay! Germany listens to his boss und he done someding wrong!" In another attempt to gain a little bit of leverage, Romano wrapped his leg up around Prussia's waist, so sure this would help him.

"Let go of me!"

"Schtop your squverming bevore I invate your vidal regions!" It was then that the door to the closet flew open, revealing the three blondes and the two occupants of said closet in a very compromising position. It wasn't that long a time later before the three closed the door.

"Are we just gonna say we didn't see that?" Both Canada and England nodded to one another, agreeing whole-heartedly with America. Canada more or less looking away as he nodded, seemingly trying to conceal a snigger. "Anyone want some pie?"

"You guys are just gonna leave me in here!?" Romano screamed at them from within the closet before Gilbert kicked it open, the door hitting Canada in the forehead.

"Buncha asshole perverds!!" He yelled, shoving Romano off him and stomping his way away. From the floor, Canada could swear he could see steam shooting from Gilbert's ears as he went on his way. After not even looking back to check if he was okay, Canada decided _against_ trying to go after the man. He then sat up and looked to his brother.

"What was that all about?"

"Dunno." America looked to Romano along with England.

"Jeeze I don't know don't look at me. The man's off to begin with."

"Wot were you two yellin' about?" England asked looking a bit skeptical.

"He just came along and threw me over his shoulder before running away, why wouldn't I be yelling?" _And avoiding the subject…_ England thought to himself as America chimed in.

"Alright, let's just chill here. Why don't we go and get something to eat?"

"I can cook for you…" The other three looked down to Canada as he began to stand up and straighten his clothes. His hair must've been on fire or something from the looks he was getting from _that_ suggestion.

"Your food's too bland." Alfred complained with his tongue hanging out.

"At least you can tell what I make is food. That goes for you too England." Silence reigned as Canada did indeed have a point…

"Why don't I just cook?" Romano offered. The blondes all looked to one another and shrugged.

"Okay, sounds good. To South Italy!" America enthusiastically yelled throwing all of them over his shoulders and running off.

-----

Ok! Notes time.

Ich brauche einen Krankenwagon-- I need an ambulance.

Mein Bruder-- My brother

Danke schon--Thank you.

Something many people have told me, though I myself have never been able to personally attest to is that Canadian food is bland… Not bad, just bland… Also, America could pick up an SUV and carry it to England when he wanted to use it when he was younger… No wonder it's so easy for him to lift three people. The man is a freak!

I love Gilbert btw… I just do X3 I couldn't wait to bring him into the story. Expect more confrontations between Lovino and Gilbert as I rather like writing them.

_Edit_

This was by far the most obnoxious chapter to edit yet, for what reason, I'm not sure,. I did major edits for accents, some for grammar and spelling errors, German had a sie too many in it and I expanded the chapter to accommodate some of the things that happen later. Ah, it's so wonderful when edits come together!


	4. Aftermath IV Sleepless

It actually took me forever to write this small part, I've been working noon-10:30 for the past week, not to mention all my school work I've had to keep up on. Opening night was last night though! It went great, everyone made their cues, but a couple of the actors skipped a line or two. Oh well, they did pretty well with improv. Well, here's another chapter and I'm exhausted.

-----

Sleeping with Italy… Germany shifted in bed to look down to the man at his side. He was still naked, but he didn't have the heart to wake him up. He had passed out as soon as they had gotten home, Germany hadn't even joined him like he said he would. He'd, instead, been scrubbing down the seat and steering wheel of the car, Roderich had graciously cleaned up most of the mess, but it still had needed a deep scrubbing. Germany rolled over onto his side to face the sleeping man, he was so peaceful inn sleep, he could almost swear Italy was smiling.

"Germany…" Italy breathed as he snuggled closer to the stiffening German. Germany shifted, slightly uncomfortable with Italy snuggled into his chest, with reddening face, he looked down further to examine his friend's face. Yeah, he was asleep alright, it was obvious he was dreaming of him too… Italy dreamed about him? What did they do in his dreams? Whatever it was at least it seemed pleasant, not him begging not to be hit. Italy shifted again, his curious lock of hair sticking up straight into Germany's face.

"Mmng." Germany tiredly blew on the hair, eliciting a short whimper from Italy. A blonde eyebrow arched up his forehead, he had to do that again. Blow, another whimper… Almost like a moan… Having to investigate further, Ludwig gently stroked the hair with a finger. He knew this hair was sensitive when pulled, he'd seen Romano pull on it many times with Feliciano in much pain afterwards, how odd.

"Geeeermany." Italy's grainy, sleep-voice moaned, with a smirk, Germany found himself rubbing the hair with slightly more force, another moan and… Whoa! Germany's finger froze mid-stroke. _What_ was poking at his groin? Like a ton of bricks, it hit Germany just what _it_ was and what he had been _doing_ to the sleeping Italian. Quickly he snatched his hand back and rested it behind himself. Had he really just done that? He knew the hair was sensitive to pain, why wouldn't it be sensitive to pleasure? He felt slightly sick, it didn't help that he realized that there really was only _one_ layer of fabric between _himself_ and _Italy's _very excited self. There were not words to describe the discomfort _or_ embarrassment of finding out that you had been indirectly jacking off your friend… And you friend was _dreaming_ about you during… "Germany…" Italy sighed and snuggled even _closer_, his hips rubbing against Germany's/

Okay! Not cool! This was soooo not happening!

"Uh… Italy…?" Germany said quietly as his face began to grow extremely hot. Italy did not initially stir, but _he_ was still firmly against Germany's front and from the feel of things, that status wasn't about to change soon. To add to this discomfort… Soon after, Italy's hips _moved_, the man had been known to sleepwalk and he _was_ woman crazy… Was it really so far a leap as to say he wasn't totally motionless during dreams like he was obviously having… About Ludwig!? Now Germany was _sure_ his face was about to melt it was so hot. As Italy's hips minutely moved, another moan escaped him, this time Germany's human name.

"Italy!" He gripped his shoulders and shook him, this madness was going to stop now! The brunette woke with a start, breaking loose from Germany's hands and sitting up, smashing his wrapped head right into Ludwig's. They both yelped and sat back from each other, holding their newly aching heads. Italy hiccupped as new blood flowed, staining the bandages a crimson color similar to Germany's blush.

"Ahre you alrighd?" Germany groaned as he rubbed his head.

"Y-Yeah." Italy hiccupped again. "Can I get, uhm…" He seemed to be having trouble remembering a word.

"Hetache meticine?" Germany provided.

"Y-yeah, that's it."

"Sctay here. I'll ged it." As Ludwig left to retrieve the medicine, Italy couldn't help but think back to his dream. He realized that it was not really a wonder that he was hard and, because of that, it wasn't either that Germany had woke him.

_Did I say anything while I was asleep?_ Or maybe it was… Italy looked down to the tent in the sheets, yeah, he'd probably just disturbed him that way. Ah, the Ludwig in his dream though, it didn't disturb _him _in the slightest, the Ludwig in his dream--_No_. He would not think back to the dream, the Ludwig in his dreams did not matter, the Ludwig in his dreams never would. He was not the man he loved, no matter how alike they were, one existed, the other did not, it was one of the few places the real and dream versions of his friend differed and it was one of the few that truly mattered.

"Here." Germany had walked in and now stood before him with two, small, white pills held out in one hand, the other held a half-full glass of water. He was desperately trying not to look down and give Italy some privacy. "Svollow dem qvik, dey tasde like hell." Italy smiled happily and took them from the taller man's hand.

"Thank you Ludwig." Italy took the glass from Germany's other hand and downed the pills quickly. He made a face that suggested that he had almost never taken pills before as he seemed unaccustomed to the taste and feel of it. He shook his head back and forth to clear it and winced when it caused more pain. "What time is it?" He rubbed his head as he looked around the dark room but couldn't quite make out the numbers on the clock.

"1:23." Germany replied as he took the half-empty glass from Feliciano.

"Oh, did I… Uh, wake you then?" In truth, he hadn't, Germany had originally gone to bed at 11:00. However, he hadn't been able to sleep, too much was still on his mind, even now. More or less it was centered around why his friend was apparently having sex dreams about him… Unless…

"No…" The timbre of Germany's voice was off, Italy couldn't place it though, so he acted as if he hadn't noticed.

"That's good. I'm going back to sleep."

"No you're nod." Italy froze at the irritation in Germany's voice.

"W-why not?" He braced himself for whatever might happen next. Most likely he'd be hit, but why? _Had_ he actually spoken in his sleep? He had been told my Romano many times that he did. It Ludwig hadn't been asleep… Did he hear Italy say his name? Did he hear Italy say something _else_ he said in his dream? His stomach was beginning to feel uncomfortable again.

"Because I neet to rewrap your het." Oh… Italy relaxed and reached up to feel his head, it still hurt of course, but when he removed his hand to look at it a small amount of blood was on the tips of his fingers. He cringed a little but played it down as if he was used to it.

"I guess it wouldn't be good to get blood on your pillows." He smiled and bounced over to Germany's side of the bed, hopping out of said bed a second later. The moment his feet touched the floor however, he lost his balance and stumbled into the half-naked man… He himself still completely naked of course.

"Von, you hev a het injury, no bouncing arount like dat. Two, goh ged some pands on vhile I ged some bandages." Germany tried his best _not_ to think about the still incompletely flaccid part of Italy that was against him below the belt line. But he had seen naked men before, hell, he was one, it really shouldn't matter.

"Okay!" Italy thankfully agreed while Ludwig turned from him and left the room.

Germany walked into his bathroom and went through alcohol pads and bandages, all the time wondering about Italy. _Could the dream have had something to do with the condition he's in?_ It was true the doctor had said that Italy was really over stressed and still healing, stress induced sex dream? He believed it could happen, especially considering what he himself had done _many_ times when stressed as stupid as it sounded. _But a dream about me?_ Now that was the most unsettling part… What if Italy…

"No, no, no." He muttered to himself as he closed up the first aid kit and headed back to his room where Italy (hopefully) had his pants back on and was waiting for him. Which--thankfully he was. He didn't necessarily have _pants_ on though, more like just a pair of boxers. "Sid down on de bet."

Upon Germany's command Italy plopped down with a carefree smile. Germany smiled inwardly when he realized it was real, he was happy his friend was wrapping his head? Maybe it had just been the subsequent whacks to the head in recent days had sent him loony…

"Hurry up Ludwig I wanna go back to beeeed!" The man whined tiredly. Germany's mask of irritation hadn't budged a bit, so, typical to form, when he replied he sounded impatient. "_Ja, ja_, I'm coming." The blonde moved on to the bed and sat down behind him, his legs striding Italy's back as he sat up straight.

"Lean back." Italy complied, leaning back to rest against Germany's chest. Then Ludwig carefully unwound the bandages from his head, quickly wiping the cut down with an alcohol pad a moment later. Feliciano whined slightly at the sting, but managed to stay mostly still.

_He's so warm._ Italy remarked to himself as Germany tilted his head forward to rewrap it with the clean bandages. The end result was tight, but Italy could live with that, at least for the night. The medicine from earlier was already making him sleepy as his eyes began to droop closed, he thought he felt Ludwig's hands in his hair, but he was probably mistaken.

"Italy?" Ludwig checked if he was awake after positioning his hair outside the bandage. The deep, slow breathing confirmed that he was indeed asleep again. At least his dreams were a bit more tame it seemed, but Italy had fallen asleep leaning back onto Germany's chest. Germany sighed to himself, now having to figure out how to get up without rousing the exhausted nation. Then again, the guy did sleep like the dead most nights, probably even more so tonight since he was on drugs now. Still, he had only _just _fallen asleep and probably _would_ wake up with little provocation. Slowly, Germany slid to Italy's left, carefully supporting him with his arms before finally getting his right leg off the bed and laying Italy down to sleep on top of the comforter. Germany smiled down at him, once again noting the peace in his face. He suddenly wondered if Italy had slept like this during the war. Had he and Romano slept at all? Despite being allies they were both very busy during the war and never spent half as much time with each other, Italy and him… They hadn't slept together in nearly two years, yesterday had been odd, it needed getting used to again… The war was over now and Italy could be as carefree as he wanted around Germany. Really he hadn't noticed that he missed waking up next to someone every morning… He suddenly felt as though he should call Gilbert, he was incredibly unfamiliar with what had happened and really had no idea how to approach the situation. So, he left the room, heading for his office down the hall, he plopped down in his chair and reached for the phone, lazily dialing the number with one hand while the other brought the receiver to his ear.

---

"Who is he calling?" Canada asked Romano as he took a bit of cold pasta and Kumajiro fell asleep in his lap. Romano snorted with surprise and shook his head back and forth to wake up.

"What did I miss?"

"Uhm, not much, Germany got out of bed and is now calling someone." Matthew personally approved of the union, he was _not_ telling Romano about what had happened in bedroom. He most likely would've called assault about the head accident and attempted an attack. Canada, at this point, was not ready for another battle that could potentially break out into another war.

"Who is he calling?" Romano turned up the sound to listen to Germany's conversation.

---

"I know it's lade. Schtop yelling." Germany calmly replied to his brother's less than kind greeting. Really he wasn't as calm as he sounded but he did have a knack for hiding such emotions.

"Vhy ahre you calling aht fucking two in de morning?!" Gilbert less than courteously yelled into the receiver, half hoping to deafen his brother.

"It's 1:52, firscht off, unt secont… I'm only calling you because I'm nervous aboud someding…"

"Oh ahre you? Vell, dat changes everyding!" Was Prussia's sarcastic reply to his brother's admission.

"It's aboud Italy. I di-"

"Of course it's aboud Italy! You're marriet to him! Call me back vhen I give a shid!"

"Gilbert, _Bruder, den ich liebe. Bitte ich brauche deine Hilfe._" The tired man calmed down when he recognized the tone in Ludwig's voice. His brother wasn't just _nervous_ he was confused and afraid. This was a side of his brother he hadn't seen in… He couldn't remember the last time _Germany_ admitted something like this. Prussia groaned for theatric effect, acting as if he didn't want to help him.

"Alrighd, alrighd, I'll help. _Was ist das Problem?_"

---

"He's talking with Prussia." Canada said, mildly interested, Germany was talking to his brother about what had happened in the bedroom… Well, apparently Canada was about to be found out, but Romano _had_ been asleep. Speak of whom, Romano ground his teeth at the name. So, Germany _had_ asked Prussia to kidnap him! He knew it!

"That no good…" Romano trailed off with curses and other insults about the character of the white-haired nation and his brother, not paying particular attention to what the two were talking about on the phone.

_He's definitely never done this before._ Canada remarked internally as he scribbled on a notepad. If England and America found out about this, period, there would be no end to the amount of flak he and Romano were going to get, Germany would be angry too, but would never attack Feliciano's brother for sure. At least he hoped not, there was another potential cause of war. Romano was just not in a good position for all this unneeded spying nonsense. He would've refused to begin with, but he felt obligated to help the underdog nation. At this point he was coming close to regretting it. He made a quick note to himself about something Germany said.

---

"Vhy do you sount ahs if you vere vaiting for dis Gilbert?"

"Vhat, are you kitting me? You finting oud dat he is a fag is priceless. Also makes me vonder vhere your het has been for all dese years."

"It's not exactly easy to tell vhen de man hids on efery voman he sees unt he is… Vell, Italy arount eferyvon." There was a snort from over the phone, Gilbert was laughing at him… "Also, _Gilbert_ you efer call Italy a _fag_ efer again, dere vill be someding missing from your vital regions dat von'd grow back. _Hast du verstanden__?_" The only thing that accomplished was getting Gilbert to laugh harder and loud enough so Germany could still hear him with the receiver a foot away from his face. "Vhat is so funny?!" He yelled, putting the receiver back to his ear.

"_Vergiss es, vergiss es_. Ve can talk about it some oder time. Bud someding I forgod to tell you earlier, Romano _really_ hades you now."

---

"What are they talking about?" Romano turned up the sound again, only managing to create a nasty grounding noise that nearly drowned out Germany's voice. Canada reached for a knob and turned it, filtering out the ground.

"I'm not sure, Germany doesn't seem worried though. I'm really not surprised though that Germany got angry about the 'fag' thing."

"Peh, my brother _is_ a fag."

"Are you not one too?" Canada asked pointedly as he continued to scribble on his notepad. He never once looked up as Romano angrily sputtered and hissed like ice thrown into a fire and began to insult him.

"Where do you get off-"

"Antonio." Romano stuttered again and decided it to be in his better interest to shut up and leave the man be. This, after all, was the only man that had made America cry by merely pointing out his faults…

---

"Rmph, I bed he ditn'd say dat aboud Schpain dit he?" Ludwig grumbled.

"_Ja_, he's too stubborn to efen talk to de man bud he schtill defents him. Bud, _Westen_, seriously, if de man _really_ dit care aboud you like _dat_ I dink it vould hev come oud long ago, _ja_?" Germany groaned in the back of his throat and guessed that to be true. Italy, most likely, _would_ have said _something_ before. Right?

"Anyway, _Westen_, I'm going to bet again. Vill talk to you tomorrow vhen you're nod busy. _Gute Nacht._"

"_Ja, gute Nacht, Schlaf gut._" With that, Prussia hung up and fell back to his bed in the darkness, all the while thinking of the small child Germany once was. Thinking about what he would have to tell him soon, Germany wouldn't accept it, he knew that, the man was such a tight-ass and worried so much over public opinion. It was a miracle he had been able to set aside his pride to save his friend. Getting married, unknowingly to a man that _loved_ him for political reasons was one thing. But marrying the man _he_ loved unknowingly, who loved him too and all the while lying to himself and saying it was political, was an entirely different kettle of fish. Gilbert sighed, he'd tell Ludwig soon enough, but first he wanted things to get better. And if he believed in anything, it was that introducing _this _topic so early would only make things hard for Ludwig and painful for Feliciano. He would wait.

And wait he did.

-----

Notes:

Brüder, ich leibe. Bitte ich brauche deine Hilfe-- Gilbert, brother who I love. Please, I need your help.

Was ist das Problem--What is the problem?

Hast du verstanden?-- You understand?

Vergiss es, vergiss es-- forget it, forget it

Westen-- West (nickname for his brother if you don't know)

Gute Nacht, Shlaf gut--Good night, sleep well.

Ok, so beyond the German translations, I don't have much by way of notes, not much else is on my mind really about this chapter since I sorta feel it's onna the crappier ones I've written.

Also, I have gone back and edited the previous chapters for typos and have lightened England's accent since it's too cockney for a man like him. Not that there is anything wrong with it I just think he sounds better with a slightly lighter one. I also lengthened chapter three slightly, a little bit on chapter two as well.

Canada and Romano get their own chapter next, I wrote it on sugar and caffeine right before the show started last night so :D lol. Ja, dat's all.

_Edit_

For German corrections I would like to thank an awesome person. You know who you are.


	5. Aftermath V Sticky

Like previously mentioned this was written while I had eaten about the equivalent of a half-pound of sugar and was excited for a show, it does have plot value… Somewhere… It might be slightly indistinguishable but it's there I swear!

-----

Romano sat up in bed, a bed he had slept alone in for two months now. Two months of his brother being happily married while he stayed alone without a companion. Occasionally Canada would stay the night, but he missed his brother more than he thought he would. Out of all the meetings and functions they had seen each other at, Romano had only said a few words to Feliciano. All other times he was hanging off that deceptive potato freak. He'd seen Antonio too and the man seemed happy without him… Everyone didn't really seem to need Romano, not Antonio, not America, England, Canada or even his brother. He just needed all of them… He took a deep breath to steady himself, he hadn't cried at all in the past two months and he wasn't going to break now.

"Romano?" The brunette jumped, nearly falling off the bed in the process, he quickly swung his head around to see who it was. Canada was standing in his doorway… "Are you feeling alright?"

"Uh, why are you here?"

Canada shrugged, he had been bored at his house and had slowly been spending more and more time at Romano's over the passed two months. America and England never questioned it even though Canada seemed to be there for no apparent reason. Matthew was slowly coming to enjoy visiting really, he was sure Romano was lonely anyway and didn't mind the extra company. This experience was beginning to remind him of one he had years earlier. He refused to think of it though as the resulting relationship with _that_ person ended undesirably.

"Alright… I guess." Now that he had answered the question, back to thinking about Germany and Feliciano… What was there to think about though? Even with all their spying, nothing adverse happened, nothing he could do to convince people Germany was in this to abuse his little brother. Everything seemed to be fine, Germany occasionally seemed nervous around Italy even though no one ever said a single bad thing about them or their union. Then again, what they had done was a very commonly done thing, England and France had done it once… Even when they wanted nothing to do with one another, too bad the relationship developed _after_ the union dissolved. He was sure though! So sure! Germany was going to fuck up soon and _real_ bad. Then! Then he could get his brother back and everything would be good again! Hey, if Feliciano ended up hating Germany as much as he did then it would just be a sweet, sticky, syrupy bonus. He could almost taste it in his mouth.

"Hey! Romano!" Romano blinked and looked back over to Canada who was still in the door.

"What?"

"I asked you if you wanted syrup on your French toast."

"When did you even offer breakfast?"

"You didn't hear a word I said…" Matthew sighed and fixed his glasses, Romano slipping off into his own little vengefully plotting world was becoming more and more common. "I made French toast, do you want syrup on it?"

"Yeah, I guess." Romano shrugged and was really not sure why the man was here, but for whatever reason he was and he might as well use him while he was still around.

Canada nodded and walked down to the kitchen, Romano had been good with keeping his house clean, it seemed cleaner than it ever had been with Veneziano living there, then again he had only been here a few times prior. Matthew, seemingly unbeknownst to Romano, or perhaps he just didn't care, had moved some of his own food into the expansive refrigerator, also some fish for Kumajirou… Who was eating Canada's toast.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"Eating breakfast." The bear answered as he ate.

"But that's _mine_." He lightly whined as the bear swallowed the last of his sweet, sticky breakfast.

"Oh, it was? Oops." Kumajirou pushed the plate towards Canada with his nose.

"It's alright, I can make more. You didn't eat Romano's did you?" The bear shook his head and plopped his butt down on the table before scratching his ear. Canada left the thing be and picked up the plate of powdered sugar and bread, smothering it with maple syrup not a second later. The rim of the plate barely corralled the veritable sea of syrup as he stuck a fork in the stack of toast and headed back to Romano's room.

"Romano I have your bre-" The Italian man cut him off by throwing himself at him, spilling the syrup, powered sugar and toast all down Canada's front.

"I know what to do Canada!" Matthew frowned, half at his warm, syrup-soaked front (some of which splashed onto his glasses) and half that Romano had seemingly come with a _real_ plan to ruin Germany's life. "Ew." Romano jumped off him and looked at his bare chest to see syrup dripping down it. Canada tried not to pay attention to that and merely asked "What is it?"

Romano smirked as he ran a finger through the syrup on his chest, bringing his finger up to his mouth and slowly licking it off. "A plan too sweet not to work. I'm gonna piss off Germany so bad that he'll _have _to do something."

"You're going to make _Germany_ of all people _angry_?! What good will that do?! For anyone!?" Canada let the plate drop the floor and shatter.

"Dammit Canada!" Romano leaned down and started picking up the pieces of ceramic that mixed intermittently with the food that was once upon it.

"No, no, it's alright, you might cut yourself, let me do it." As he leaned down to help, Romano smacked his hand away, getting more of the sticky stuff over Matthew's clothes.

"If I want your help I'll ask for it!" Was Romano… Crying? Canada fixed his sticky glasses and squatted down by him, watching the Italian as he pointedly ignored Canada's scrutiny. Romano kept picking up the plate's pieces, he had a few cuts on his palms, but Matthew doubted that's why he was.

"Just want control over _something_, right?" He knew this frustration and he knew it well. Unlike him though, Romano didn't have his best friend close at hand for the help he had received. The blonde sighed, it was so depressing to think like that... If Romano's old best friend couldn't be around to help him, by God, he would be.

"What are you talking about?" Romano wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm, now his whole body was just a sticky mess as he walked to the rubbish bin in the room. Canada rose with him but did not follow him across the room.

"You're frustrated with how Germany is helping your brother while you can't, England and America just threw themselves in to help you. You don't particularly want that help, plus there is the fact that Germany saved you and your brother both… Spain… Well, I'm just mentioning him… I understand."

"Shut up Canada! You don't know anything!" A shard sailed across the room then, slicing into Canada's cheek, it wasn't deep, but like all facial wounds the blood oozed quickly. Romano wiped his eyes again, glaring at Canada all the same. The look of distain was quickly smothered as Canada closed the space between them with a bear hug. At first, Romano squirmed and attempted to break the show of affection, but when that proved futile against the determined blonde, he found himself hugging back. This whole affair was just so damn frustrating. He rested his face on Canada's shirt, the fabric sticking to him.

The hug quickly grew awkward for the two as they realized what they had been talking about earlier and that this, most likely, this was the first time the two had hugged.

"What was your idea?" Canada asked as he ended the embrace and took a step back. Romano grudgingly ended the hug too and took more than a few steps away, feeling as awkward as ever as he tried to sum up his plan of irritating Germany. "Because it's a virtual death wish making Germany angry."

"But it will work and I know I… The both of us, will get out unscathed. And I'll have my brother back." _Slightly damaged though…_ He didn't have the courage to admit it out loud; Canada's cheek was still bleeding out and he could very well decide to go against him at any time if the blood flow should increase.

Canada opened his mouth to say something, but just as he did, a loud knock resounded throughout the house from the front door. Romano slipped from the room, Canada following a few steps behind, the syrup on him was beginning to dry, it was still sticky, but now it was also itchy.

Upon reaching the door, Romano opened it, revealing England and America…

"Romano! Put some clothes on!" America backed up as the only thing the Italian had on was a pair of white (and syrup stained) boxers. England examined him more closely and noted the translucent, drying layer on his skin in most places.

"Wot's on you?" Romano looked down at himself as Canada walked into view of the two, his shirt and coat likewise covered with the same substance.

"It's maple syrup." Matthew provided when Romano looked up again. Alfred raised an eyebrow at them both. England's just climbed ever the higher.

"What in the world were you doing?" America asked, cringing back. Matthew mussed his own hair and fixed his glasses before explaining. "Made French toast and poured syrup on it. I walked down the hall, Romano didn't see me and we ran into each other."

"Oh…" America replied, perhaps Matthew had gone transparent as he often did. The blonde nation jumped, suddenly aware of the color on Romano's hands and Canada's cheek. "HO-M-F-G! What happened?!" He ran up to his brother and checked him out for anything else that was wrong like a mother hen. England simply took one of Romano's hands and examined it.

"What are the cuts from? Your hands are sticky…" Romano snatched his hand back, practically glaring at England.

"Canada broke one of my plates and I cut my hands picking it up." He bitterly answered as he coldly folded his arms across his chest. He still feared the man, but had gotten to know him better in the recent two months and was now confident enough to tell him off.

"And Canada's face?"

"Here, lemme fix it!" America dragged Canada to Romano's bathroom, Romano giving chase a second later. _Avoid me all you want._ England followed after them as America situated the flustered Matthew in front of the mirror and swabbed his face down with a wet washcloth.

"Uhm, Alfred, I was gonna take a shower in a little bit." Canada mumbled lightly, very embarrassed that his brother was acting this way.

"In _my_ house?" Romano feigned offense with a dramatic hand motion.

"It's like I'm not even here anyway. I figured you wouldn't mind." Alfred slapped a Band-Aid over Matthew's cut and smiled.

"That'll hold you. You don't have clothes here anyway."

"Actually-"

"I could've washed them while he was in the shower." Romano drowned out Matthew. They might wonder why Canada had clothes here.

"Canada, what were you doing here anyway?" England asked as he stepped out of the rather small bathroom.

"I was around so I came to visit… Romano, your front door was open this morning, I forgot to tell you." That sure drew everyone's attention, the three looked to Romano as he just seemed shocked. "Nothing looked missing or messed up so I just thought that maybe it was you forgot to close it or something. Maybe you were up already." Romano gave Canada a look, a look that he seemed to be able to understand too, luckily for them it had been lost on England and America.

"I say, if nothing is missing, we look for something that wasn't here before." America suggested as he examined the hallway. This earned him a few looks from the three other parties, why would someone leave something? And if he had been implying that someone was spying on Romano… What reason did they have? His nation was in economic and structural turmoil and divided in half, who would do such a thing? "Hey! I'm jus' sayin'. Someone broke into my house a few years ago and left me a lava lamp. It was the freakiest thing _ever._" America felt necessary to add.

"_Idiota." _Romano rubbed his face, his hand making it very sticky. "Mmng, I need a shower, you guys do what America says while I get Canada's damn syrup off me." He remarked, looking disgustedly at his hands. With that, he shoved the Canadian and American from the bathroom and locked the door.

"Okay Matthew, you are here more than us. Anything look weird?" America fiddled with the ends of his ever-present coat.

"Uhm… We should start probably with the main room." Canada hurried down the hall and looked around carefully. Chances were that if the door was open that someone had come in and tapped them. However, Romano was a damaged half-country, not even Prussia would want to do it though he and Romano hadn't gotten along. Whenever they did meet they yelled and carried on at one another since Romano absolutely hated Germany and his god damn marriage to Veneziano. Could it have been Veneziano then? He had a key most likely and seemed like him to forget to close a door, somewhat.

That was when he found it, as America and England checked around a strange Italian artifact, Canada picked it up and pocketed it. It was an envelope, judging by the thickness, it carried a letter inside of it. It was addressed in Antonio's handwriting.

-----

Notes:

Idiota-- Idiot (lol it's nearly the same in every language)

Ok yay! I'm going to bed! I started typing this morning then went to work and just got back a little while ago, it was eleven thirty here when I got back and I am exhausted! Gute nacht~!

_Edit_

Cleaning up some of the things, I noticed missing quotations. Expanded the chapter very slightly.

_Edit_

More cleaning, expanded a bit.


	6. Aftermath VI Red

R&R

-----

He was frustrated again, he was always angry and irritated now a days, Italy wasn't quite sure if he wanted to know why. Germany yelled more often, even at Italy himself, he had yet to tell Italy what was even wrong. No matter what Feliciano asked, Ludwig never told him why he was so upset. Earlier in the week Ludwig had snatched the newspaper away from him and demanded he turn the TV off. That gave him more than enough reason to suspect that something was wrong with Germany. It had been awhile, two months and a week, since they had married, he suspected that this was the time people would say "honey moon's over".

---

Canada flipped the envelope around his finger, he'd kept it from Romano for about a week now, he had not opened it, but he was still unsure about whether or not to give it to him. Romano had been in a better mood lately since his plan was working, he had been launching terrorist attacks at Germany, and even at his brother's side of the country… In one week it was amazing to see how frustrated Germany had become. The terrorists were never caught, they used equipment from other nations, some even provided by Canada… He sighed and caught the envelope in the palm of his hand and looked at it. Depending upon what it said, it could either make Romano happy or extremely angry. The extremely angry Romano would get sloppy and more violent, the happy one might stop this stupidity all together… Canada couldn't take the chance on the first.

---

A merry laughing and music filled South Italy's house, the smells of cooking pizza and pasta too. He felt positively fantastic, the best he'd felt since before the war, whether or not it was because his economy was attempting a pick up or it was just because his plan was working, he wasn't sure. Either way, he felt like celebrating… Too bad no one was here to do it with him… Canada had left his house, saying he needed some time in his own country, he had stayed most of the week though, helped him plan, helped keep him on track, helped so much… He actually missed Matthew… He missed Feliciano even more, the meeting this week, his brother didn't even sit next to him, he sat next to Germany.

"_Bastardo._" He growled, he almost left the kitchen to look for Canada, but he reminded himself that Canada was going to be gone for about two days, so he hummed to himself and kept cooking. He was less enthusiastic about it, but he wasn't going to let the fact that his friends weren't there drag him down too much.

He smirked to himself as he threw some spices into the sauce he was making for the pasta, he remembered something. There was going to be another attack on Germany today, this was _really_ going to piss him off. He laughed bitterly to himself and began to sing once more.

---

Minor things, minor things, always small things, nothing big, but it was inevitable, it would be soon, the terrorists would become even bolder. What if they attacked him personally? Would they attack Italy too? One of the attacks had already happened in Italy's territory of the country. This was driving Ludwig into a wall. Fraying his nerves to the point he was now fidgeting with his pen. He was never a man for nervous fidgets, annoyed tapping of his fingers, maybe, but never _nervous_ fidgets.

He had yelled at Italy again today, it was something stupid too, something about leaving a towel on the floor. It had been two months--_Two months and a week._--he was used to Italy's laziness, he had been before, he had never yelled at him about it before. He didn't yell when Italy cooked and got flour and oil on everything, never had he yelled at him for being untidy. Yelled at him for loafing around during training, but it had been war, he needed to get better, one couldn't be gentle during war.

Was this why Italy always put his arms up to defend himself? Why he always begged him not to be hit even though Germany had no intention of doing so? He knew he wasn't like this, he was just stressed, very stressed. He pounded his fist on his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. When would it end and he could be himself again?

"Gah!" He ground his teeth as new blood stained the arm of his shirt, even as the tear traveled up from his elbow to his shoulder, he would not yell. The small noise he had already made was bad enough, he would not let Italy hear him. He had done very well in this past week in keeping the attacks a secret. Luck had partially been with him too as Italy was never in the room when it happened.

He stood up as the blood flowed freely down his arm and began to drip from his sleeve to the floor, he held the arm over a rubbish bin while he used the other hand to undo his coat. He carefully worked it off and threw it to his desk chair, examining the tears in his skin. There wasn't just one like he originally thought, there were six, five of medium size, they were all deep, like stab wounds. The sixth one, connected them all, it wasn't as deep, but it was long and wide. He could tell that the five small ones were very inexperienced, maybe one of the terrorists had died, but by the depth of them they had done their job. The last one, the one that connected them all, wasn't a tear, it was a slice, this one was experienced, done with surgeon precision. Whoever held this together, knew exactly what he was doing.

His head was beginning to hurt and his arm felt cold despite the warm liquid running down it. All of the cuts were bleeding profusely. How many of his people had died during the attacks in recent days? Today alone? It made his heart ache just to think about it. _Italy..._ He stumbled for the closed door to his office, Italy had been asking, was this how he was going to find out? A chill racked his large frame, spelling out the answer for him, yes.

"_Verdammt noch mal. Warum… gerade jetzt?_" He turned the knob and yanked the door open with his left hand, the good one now. "_Italien_!" His rough, deep voice carried through every room in the house, even the cavernous basement. "_Komm sofort her_!_"_

"I'm coming! Hang on a moment!" Germany sagged against the door frame, grateful that Italy was still inside, he could've gone off to paint as he normally did this time of day. Italy's fast footsteps sounded through the hallway and became louder the closer he came, Germany sagged lower on his door frame as he attempted to hold his arm up. "What is it?" Italy asked as he came running down the hall towards Germany, he was holding his painting smock up as if it were a skirt, his paint brushes in hand as well.

"_Ich brauche dich…_" He moved to show his arm to Italy, struggling with English for a moment, his tongue uncooperative and sloppy. "I neet you to call… An _ambulanz_. Blut dype A posidife." He vaguely heard Italy scream his name before the floor rushed up to meet him, darkness taking all he knew.

---

"_Bonjour_?" Canada held the receiver of the phone to his ear as he sat his book down, using the envelope as a bookmark.

"Matthew! You won't believe this!" Only Alfred ever called him Matthew now a days… Whoever this was, though could sure rival him in enthusiasm.

"Who is this?" He asked tapping his fingers on the book he was reading, eager to go back to it. He was at a great part, but this person sounded familiar, and they used his name, there was also their enthusiasm to take into account. His heart sped up with excitement as he jumped to who it could possibly be, they hadn't spoken in so long now...

"Romano! Don't you know my voice by _now_?!" That excitement died slightly with that, but that didn't exactly mean he was disappointed with who was on the other end of the phone.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I'm just not used to-" _You sounding so happy…_ Now he was scared, only one thing could make Romano happy. "What happened?"

"Germany is in the hospital!" Matthew almost dropped the phone, today was a scheduled attack yes, but it was supposed to be a minor one in Frankfurt… Had Romano changed plans on him?

"From _one_ attack?" Romano giggled on the other end of the phone at Canada's ignorance, the very hair of the latter standing on end now.

"Not one, _six_!"

"Today alone!?"

"Yep! Great idea, huh? Got that potato bastard good!"

"What about your brother?! Is he alright?"

"D'uh, who do you think told me?" Romano laughed into the phone, Canada had to take the phone from his ear to keep away the bitter sound. "He actually _called_ me, crying! As if I would give a fuck! Amazing, eh?!"

"You're supposed to care, he's your brother…"

Romano blew a raspberry into the phone rather childishly before responding. "No brother of _mine_ would marry Germany."

_Then what are you trying to gain by making Germany's life miserable?_ "I see. Congratulations on a successful attack! Where all did you go?"

"Let's see… Frankfurt, like planned, Hamburg, Munich, Dusseldorf and of course Berlin!"

"Berlin!? The capital?!_ Que les _ef!?"

"Woah, woah, woah! Don't get bent out of shape over it! It was a great idea!" The Italian was beginning to sound exactly like someone else he knew, funnily enough, he was someone Romano hated.

"You said you wanted to piss him off! Not mortally wound him!" Canada's accent began to slur his English, he had to try hard not to go completely into Quebecois.

"What are you so angry about? The plan worked!" It was amazing, Canada found, that such an ineffectual man had actually achieved an end that he desired, but then again… Canada himself had helped and taught him how to do what he had… He took his glasses off and twirled them around his finger, holding the phone from his face and taking deep breaths.

Teaching him how was going to come back to him, he knew it would, he just didn't know it would so soon… He didn't even think Romano knew just _what_ he had done. If Germany found any evidence of either of the nations involvement… _Oh, God_… He tightened his grip on the receiver of the phone and found the courage to bring it back to his ear.

"Matthew! You still there?"

"Yeah I'm here. What are you… We, doing next?"

"Waiting. I want to give him time to stew." Romano laughed before hanging up the phone on Canada.

Matthew dropped the phone down on the base and wrapped his arms around himself, he wanted to call America, but knew he couldn't, Cuba was a bad choice too and England…

_What about Pr..._ He snorted, the man had openly ignored him last time they saw each other. Hit him in the head with a closet door and hadn't even spared him a backward glance...

"_Que dois je faire…?_"

---

Italy sat at Ludwig's bedside all night long. He'd since had his transfusions and was stable, it was hard for him, however, to watch as a man sewed up Germany's arm as if it were a blanket. It looked so painful, but he knew his husband couldn't feel it, he had been anesthetized in his right arm and was asleep. Feliciano, unable to do it with his right hand, held onto Ludwig's left instead, using it as a kind of tether.

Who would have done this? Ludwig had been nothing but nice to pretty much everyone for a long time. At least that was the way Feliciano saw it.

"Mmmng…"

"Ludwig?" The blonde stirred in his bed at about four A.M. He'd been out since one yesterday afternoon. He moaned something unintelligible in German before clenching his left hand into a fist, nearly crushing Feliciano's hand. "Ah!"

"Feliciano?" Germany turned his head quickly to see where he was, only to be very surprised to find himself crushing his hand. "Oh, I'm sorry." He released his hand immediately and looked away from him, to his arm. "I know how America feld…"

"Felt during what?" Feliciano hid his hurt, both physical and emotional, really inadequately, but Germany wasn't looking at him…

"Nine-elefen." Ludwig straightened up as he seemed to remember something, he turned his head slightly to look back at Italy. "Feliciano…"

"Yes?" The Italian turned his face downward to look at Germany's hand, it was such an interesting hand!

"Ahre you hurd aht ahll?"

"No… Ludwig… Why didn't you say something…?"

"Because I ditn'd vand you to vorry." Germany nearly flinched back when Feliciano laid his hand on top of his again, he barely managed to stop himself. "Uh, hev you been heir ahll nighd?" Feliciano nodded and Ludwig looked down to his hand, how long had the Italian man been holding it before he woke up? "Feli-" Just then a nurse poked her head into the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I see you're awake, though. Do you feel up to having any other visitors?"

"Who ahll is vaiding?"

"A Roderich Edelstein, Gilbert Beilschmidt and Kiku Honda." He wasn't surprised that Gilbert was there, Japan wasn't much of a surprise either and Austria… Well it's not like he was surprised about that either, just it was unexpected.

"Noh dank you."

"Aww, come on Ludwig. At least talk to Japan." Feliciano tried, picking up Ludwig's hand between both of his.

"I cahnnod listen to von und nod de oders, it's nod fair to dem."

"Sir, who are you anyway?" The nurse asked Italy, not quite sure what place he had back in this patient's room when he had only _just_ woken up.

"He is my husbant." Germany said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He turned back to Italy as the nurse began to turn red, that had certainly caught her off guard.

"Of course, I'm sorry, sir."

"It's okay." Feliciano smiled at her apologetically.

"Bud, uhm, if Gilbert hes anyding really impordand to tell me… Hev him wride it down please."

"Of course. Is that all you need?"

"Coult I ahlso hev a glass of vater?"

"I'll get it in a moment." The nurse left the room, closing the door behind her and hurrying off to the waiting room.

"Were you going to say something?" Feliciano asked as Germany leaned back in bed, trying to ignore his hand in Italy's

"_Nein_, noding." He sighed as Italy started playing with his hand, it wasn't unpleasant, like so many things about Italy… Just odd.

"Really?"

"_Ja._ Italy, I'm okay. You don'd hev to-"

"But, I want to…" Italy looked into Ludwig's eyes, the man didn't have the heart to pull his hand away. So Italy kept it and laced his fingers through Germany's, a happy smile starting to replace the worry on his face.

"I-Italy… You remember Falentine's day a long time ago?" Germany was afraid of not being specific enough, but that truly was the only Valentine's day he remembered.

"Of course, you acted so weird and scary." So he did remember… Germany smiled at Italy's face he seemed to look back upon the memory fondly. Germany decided that he did too, though it had been very confusing at the time. What had Gilbert said? _"_Westen, _seriously, if de man _really_ dit care aboud you like _dat_ I dink it voult hev come oud long ago, _ja_?"_ _Ja…_ He nearly frowned, but what if it already had? As far as Germany could tell, the whole thing had just been a huge misunderstanding, Italy had not known that a bouquet of red roses was a confession of love… "Why?"

"Noh reason." He carefully rubbed Italy's knuckle with a finger, Feliciano tightened his grip on Ludwig's hand.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"_Ja, _Italy. You callt de hospidal, de ambulance god me, und now I'm fine." Italy still looked dubious, what if Germany was lying _again_ about being fine? "I'm nod lying Italy." He said as if he could read the smaller man's mind before squeezing his hand. He had the overwhelming urge to kiss Italy's cheek just then, but at this point he feared it to be as misinterpreted as Italy's bouquet of roses long ago.

Meanwhlie, now Italy was examining Germany's naked chest. The usual scars were still there from the many battles of the past. The scars from the second world war were only just starting to fade now... There were also the minor scars forming on his chest, the scars from these past attacks that probably had been occurring all week not just this one event if Italy had to guess. One was located over the area of his heart, there was another on his side, they didn't seem out of place at all among the others. Germany had always gone to bed after Italy all week and had woken up before him. Had he done it to hide the cuts that were now scars from Italy or had there been something else behind it?

Feliciano looked up into Ludwig's eyes and as their eyes met, something passed between them, like a static shock, neither knew what it was. Germany was so sure he had felt something tangible, something meaningful even, and he was so sure he knew what it meant… But each time he pursued the feeling it eluded him. The same was to be said for Italy, he felt it and knew Germany needed something. They both needed it, but what was it?

"Excuse me…" The two men turned from one another, that electrified feeling dying immediately, to look at the nurse. She held a glass of water in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. "Is this a bad time?"

"Noh, nod aht ahll." It didn't feel that way to him in actuality, but it would be foolish to say that she was.

"Okay then, here is your water and Mr. Beilschmidt has this for you." She held out the glass only to have Italy take it for Ludwig with his free hand, not wanting the German to stretch his stitched and splinted arm. Instead of a thank you Italy got a _look_, a look that denoted annoyance and Germany reached up to take the note from the nurse with his right hand. The blonde had barely even gritted his teeth at the pain of movement, Italy suspected that it had been for show, though. The nurse seemed awkward for a second before continuing to speak. "If you need anything at all let me know." Germany nodded to her and she turned to leave. Italy held up the glass, which he took with his bad hand and sipped at it. He sighed, grateful for the relief the water had given his dry mouth and throat.

"What does the note say?" Italy asked, trying to avoid having to think about the look Germany had given him when he offered help. Wordlessly, after setting the glass down, Germany opened the folded piece of paper with his right hand. For a man like him, Gilbert had impeccable handwriting… He raised an eyebrow at the note. It wasn't to him, it was to Italy.

"Feliciano, Gilbert vants to see you oud in de vaiding room."

"Really?" Italy took the note from Germany's hand and looked at it.

_Send Feliciano out. I need to speak with him. I'll talk to you in private later. ~Gilbert_

"I guess I'll go meet with him then…" Feliciano looked down to the hand gripped in his, he really had no interest in releasing it like he knew he had to. Germany began to unlace his fingers from Italy's to move this process along. After successfully working his fingers free he sat his hand on top of Italy's. Hopefully the man understood that Germany was not mad at him about the whole water glass thing.

"Really Italy, I'm going to be fine, now goh see vhat my bruder vants." Italy looked away as if to protest, but no words came to his lips. "Feliciano, vhere am I going in de nexd ten, fifteen minudes?" Germany sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand when Italy did not move, so he chose this time to give into impulse, albeit slowly. He shifted himself carefully in his bed, making sure not to use his right arm too much. Italy looked at him strangely but said nothing as Germany leaned out of the bed and lingeringly kissed him on his cheek. "Goh on." Germany tiredly sighed and laid back on his bed again, his eyes beginning to droop closed.

"Aw, but you just woke up."

"_Italy…_" Germany groaned tiredly. "Please." Italy stood up from his chair and smiled down at the exhausted man, he had been asleep for so long and he was still tired…. Now that he thought about it, Feliciano himself was tired, but he still had to talk to Gilbert. Maybe he would sleep in the more comfortable chair in the corner when he was done talking with him. That sounded like a plan.

"Night, Ludwig." Germany drew a deep, near-snore breath and sighed out his salutation as he slipped back into sleep, his electrocardiograph's beeping slowed as proof that he was. Italy's smile widened as he began to snore and turned to the door to leave, humming the song he wrote about Germany a long time ago.

Italy stepped out into the waiting room, pausing for a moment to look for Gilbert's white hair. One would think that an albino would be easy to notice in a room full of normal people.

"Ofer hier." He spun round a few times looking for where the voice came from. Gilbert was sitting in the far corner of the room, his hand raised in order to catch Feliciano's attention. The look on his face didn't bode well… Italy almost didn't approach him for fear of what he might say to him. Whatever knowledge Gilbert was about to impart upon him was going to hurt…

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Italy sat down next to Prussia. The old Prussian sighed and looked to Feliciano.

"You lof my bruder, don'd you?" Needless to say Italy hadn't been expecting that question. Yeah, of course he did, but he wasn't telling Prussia that.

"He's by best friend. Of course I do."

"No, nod like dat… Do you _lof_ him." Italy shifted uncomfortably in his spot on the seat, Prussia's red eyes boring into him for an answer.

"_Love_ him? What do you mean by that?"

"Don'd play schtupit vid me. I know you do." There had been no real reason for Gilbert to ask, he had already known the answer anyway. It was also obvious that Feliciano would deny it at first.

"Is that really-"

"Do you lof your bruder?"

"Like that? No!" Gilbert almost smirked as Italy had only succeeded in incriminating himself with that. He resisted on the grounds that now was not the time.

"Noh, noh dat's nod vhat I meand… You _lof_ my bruder… Und you lof _your_ bruder. _Ja_?"

"_Ja." _Italy giggled to himself, not totally sure where this was going, but he knew he wasn't going to like it.

"I'm sure you know dat he vas attackt by a terrorisd group. He hes been ahll veek."

"I know now…" Gilbert cursed at Italy's reply, it figured that his brother would keep something so important from Italy just to keep him from worrying about him. If Ludwig ever said he wasn't the same person he used to be when he was a child he really had forgotten the bulk of it.

Italy really was not happy to find out that his earlier suspicions were true. Vaguely he wondered if Ludwig had made a habit out of this lying of his somewhere earlier than just recently.

"You're going to nod like dis very much. Bud… I hev to tell you und I suspecd dat Ludwig knows dis alreaty too… I ahlso know dat he von'd tell you if I don'd."

"W-What…?" Italy could swear he could feel his hair stick up on end, there was only one person that truly hated Germany… He just couldn't believe that he would actually do it… Was he actually hearing this?

"Romano is de source of de attacks."

-----

Notes:

Bastardo--Bastard

Verdammt noch mal. Warum… gerade jetzt--Goddamn it. Why now?

Italien--Italy

Komm sofort her-Come here now!

Ich brauche dich…--I need you…

Ambulanz--Ambulance

Bonjour--Hello

Que les ef--What the ef?! (Really I'm sure they don't use this, but hey, it's Canada, he's around America too much.)

Que dois je faire…?--What do I do…?

So, ahem, yes, chapter six, sort've distracted at the end, I hope it wasn't noticeable, it was written during the season premier of a show called House. I love it X) anyway, the story marches on and I will pass out as usual. Also, this is the first time I've used French in the story, I might just do away with it because I know absolutely nothing about French where I have some kind of inkling with German.

_Edit_

German has been fixed :)

_Edit 2_

Went back and added some things to this chapter, it's longer now by a good couple hundred words I'm sure. Also a bit of foreshadowing was added I as I am cleaning up to make ready for the last chapter.

_Edit 3_

Cleaning and expansions.


	7. Aftermath VII Rainy

Alright, I've had two days off from work and for the first time in three weeks I'm not totally exhausted! Yay! Actually I still have to go to work today, but not for awhile, at least I won't be totally run-down for it like I have been.

Italy couldn't bring himself to speak, Gilbert waited with baited breath. Genuinely afraid that Italy would not believe him, he said any more. Pleading the case with a simple minded man like him would do no good. Gilbert tensed as Italy's lips parted and told him exactly as he had feared.

"You're lying."

"Vhat reason do I hev to lie?"

"Neither you nor Ludwig like my brother…"

"He doesn'd like us eider. He _ist_ de source of Ludwig's pain righd now. He's de reason you hat to rusch your husbant to de hospidal. Don'd fool yourselv indo dinking dat he voult nod attack him." Gilbert felt as if he should do something, comfort him in some way… But he knew it would not be well received. Where it took a lot to make Italy _angry_ it took little to upset him.

"He wouldn't… I'm his brother, he still cares… I know he does."

"Do you really dink dat your selvisch bruder voult care if it voult make Ludwig miseraple?"

"Yes! Stoppit Prussia! Please!" Gilbert backed away from the upset Italian, giving him space should he choose to freak out.

"Feliciano, you know your bruder bedder den I do… Soh, who knows, maype it vasn't, bud, he ist a selvisch arsch'ole und you know it." He kept calm, that only seemed to make Italy even more upset.

"How can you say that about my brother!? You know him too! He is kinda mean but, but-"

"Shh! Qvied down. Ve're in a vaiding room."

"Why are you doing this?" Tears now pricked at Italy's brown eyes. Whatever force of will had been holding them back was about to break. He looked around the room for Japan, but it appeared that he had left already, he could cry to no one right now.

"You turn dose big brown eyes somevhere else. Your bruder hes been making Ludwig's live a misery for de paschd veek!"

"No!"

"Be qvied!"

"I might point out that you are being loud yourself, Gilbert." A shadow came to loom over the two, it was Austria, looking as harried and unhappy as Prussia. He was obviously very disappointed in both of them for yelling in hospital, but he was in no mood to discipline them.

"Schud up Roderich. Dis ist between Italy and me."

"Mr. Roderich, it's not true, is it?" Italy hopelessly asked the piano-player. Roderich, not really having heard what the fight was about, but none-the-less sure Ludwig would know answered with "Why don't you just ask Germany?" That seemed to have been the worst possible thing to suggest if the face Gilbert was now making was any indication.

Italy jumped to his feet, bolting to the area Ludwig's room was located, fleeing from Gilbert and any attempt he might make at stopping him. Prussia stood and gave chase. Or attempted to rather, Roderich grabbed the back of his uniform and pulled him back against his chest to restrain him.

"You're in a hospital, remember your manners, Prussia." Austria chastised as Gilbert struggled to get out of his grasp.

"I defeadet you vonce, I cahn do it again! I cahn do it many more times! Led me go pansy boy!"

"Stop yelling and thrashing first. You're attracting attention." The white-haired man sighed and relaxed. Really he thought it would've been more fun to fight Austria one on one, but this wasn't the time or the place. Italy would at least believe Ludwig…

"Ludwig!" Italy yelped upon running into the room. Surprising Germany awake and sending him into a moment of panic.

"Vhat?! _Was ist das_?!" His head jerked around the room, his arms shoved him up from the bed, ripping a few of the gruesome stitches out. He visibly winced and ground his teeth, slumping back to the bed.

"I'm sorry!" Italy practically jumped on top of him in his frantic frenzy of betrayal, sorrow and worry. "Are you alright?" He asked, sitting astride the other man, his knees supporting him over Germany's pelvis. Needless to say Germany felt more than a little awkward as Feliciano leaned down over his body to inspect his torn arm.

"It's fine Italy, I jus neet a nurse. She'll ged a doctor to look aht it." He just then noticed a nervous twitch in Italy as he sat up straight, sitting himself astride Ludwig's legs. "Vhat ist wrong _now_?" He asked, genuinely irritated.

Upon catching his tone, Italy quickly climbed down from the bed and stood next to it. He fidgeted with his hands as he attempted to work up to what he wanted to say.

"W-well, you see, Gilbert told me that Romano did this. Please! Please tell me it's not true!" Germany sighed, the irritation growing along with a new headache, he didn't even attempt to contain it.

"Italy, it mosd likely _vas_ hi-"

"No! He wouldn't! You know it!"

"I know de man hades me, hades our union. Hades you because you marrit me." The irritation continued to grow, he wanted to sleep, he was sore, his head was pounding and in no mood to argue with this childish person.

"He doesn't hate you! Or me! He's just… He's just confused is all!"

"Und you're delusional!" Germany quickly sat up in bed for intimidating effect. "You know bedder dan me dat dis vorlt istn'd pervecd! You _know_ your bruder hades me!" He didn't bother checking the volume of his voice, Italy began to cower away from him.

"No he doesn't!" Feliciano yelled like a stubborn child, tears rolling down his face.

"Schud up!" And Italy was on the floor. Germany stared down at him from his more offensive position, his hand still out over the air where he had hit Italy to quiet him.

Italy seemed to curl in on himself, quietly sobbing against the floor, Germany was sure a new bruise was forming on his face. Guilt washed over him as he watched the man cry, it quelled his irritation and made him feel like a monster almost. Like a parent that will hit their own child to make them stop crying.

"I schoultn'd hev done dat…" Germany averted his eyes for a moment before continuing. "Please, forgife me." The only response he got was a hiccup as Italy moved to a more comfortable position on his knees, his tears still falling like rain. "Please, schtop crying." Germany clumsily moved out of the bed, ignoring the scream of protest from his arm as another stitch tore.

"You're acting weird again." Italy hiccupped as Germany's blood dripped from his fingertips to the linoleum. _Blood?_ Quickly his own misery was forgotten as he noticed the open wound in his husband's upper arm. "You're bleeding!"

Half way leaning down to try and comfort Italy, Germany stopped and examined his arm. "It's noding."

"Quit saying that."

"It's fine, jus a few schtitches."

"Why is it… Everytime I ask you 'what's wrong' you always just say 'it's nothing'? It's not nothing to me when you end up in a hospital bed." He was as serious as he had been since they had gotten married. Ludwig had promised to himself he would give Italy no reason to be so serious… And here was, Italy crying on the floor, he'd hit him to make him quiet… No husband should ever do that… No friend should.

"I'm sorry dat I vorry you soh ovden… Bud-"

"No Ludwig, it's alright." Italy wiped his eyes, ignoring the still present sting in his face where Germany's hand connected with his cheek. Looking up, he saw Germany's hand stretched out to him, his good hand. Italy took the hand and let the blonde pull him up to his feet, their hands remaining together thereafter. "I will go see Lovino tomorrow."

"Don'd, if he attackt me he von'd hesidade to do de same to you."

"Stop being silly, Romano wouldn-" Germany seized his wrist and yanked up the cuff of his sleeve, revealing the scar on it, still a fresh pink.

"He voultn'd you schay? He's attackt you vonce alreaty… If you come to him… He mighd consiter it a declaration of var." Italy tried his hardest to weasel his wrist from the iron clasp around it. Germany held firm though, forcing him to acknowledge what had happened, what his brother had done to him.

"You're hurting me." The Italian whined, tears returning to the corners of his eyes. Germany groaned, frustrated, tired, sore, a headache pounding away full force in his skull. He released Italy's hand and looked him in the eye.

"Please Italy, schtay avay from him. If you go… I von'd schtop you, bud… Bud…" He blushed and looked away slightly. "Bud if you do go, I'll vorry de whole time." Italy smiled before responding with "It's not Lovino, I know it's not, it can't be. He's still hurt after all. And! And if America or England were helping him, everyone would know! Don't you think?" Feliciano was desperate to change Ludwig's mind. It wasn't Lovino, it couldn't have been, for more than just one reason too. The only thing his partner could think of past his headache for a moment was how childish he was. Just because they were brothers did not mean Romano wouldn't attack them. Romano was selfish, disloyal, ineffectual… _Ineffectual_… Someone _was_ helping him… But certainly it wasn't America or England… Who else was there but himself and the blondes providing aid to the nation?

_Ask _Osten… "Ist Gilbert schtill oud dere?" An odd and incomprehensible change of topic, but Feliciano was thankful for it.

"I don't know… I ran away when he lied to me like that…"

"He vas nod--…" Germany pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Okay… Cahn you please goh see? I hev a qvestion for him." Germany suddenly remembered he was bleeding as he accidentally touched a slick, bloody hand to his temple. "Ahlso, please ged a docdor for me… Ask a nurse."

More of a reaction to his second request than the first, Italy darted from the room.

"Hey! Vaid! I ditn'd give you de…" But Italy was already gone. He rubbed his head with his clean hand and walked over to the room's rubbish bin, holding his hand over it. The janitor was not going to like him very much, leaving blood on the floor like that. It annoyed him and bugged him profusely like the neat-freak he was, he calmed himself by saying he would clean it if his efforts wouldn't have been undone by his own body.

A doctor and the same nurse from earlier walked in with Feliciano about five minutes after Ludwig had situated himself by the bin, thankfully had stopped bleeding awhile ago. The doctor gave him a once over look before motioning to the nurse to bring a clinking cart with a metal tray upon it. Feliciano gagged when he saw the suture set and the syringe of anesthetic, it seemed like more of a torture set than anything else to him.

"Okay, sid up hier." The human directed him, patting the bed. Ludwig sat down on the bed once again, swinging his legs up to lay down. The physician adjusted the bed so Ludwig was sitting up. "Led me see." Ludwig lifted his arm slightly as the human inspected the snapped stitches, quite unsure about the man's sketchy attitude. The doctor motioned to the nurse, she picked up the suture set and opened it, pulling out a needle, a small pair of scissors and the material used to sew up the wound. This served to make Feliciano even more nervous as he went around to the left side of the bed to sit by Germany. "Okay, schtay ahs schtill ahs you cahn." There was a quaver in his voice as he spoke, he was definitely more than a _little _apprehensive about stitching up his country.

Carefully and meticulously, he swabbed the area around the cuts clean with an iodine pad. Next, using a pair of tweezers, he gently pulled back the skin and had the nurse administer a local anesthetic into the wound via syringe. Italy cringed back and gripped Ludwig's hand tightly. The nurse had to suppress a smile while Germany had to fight the impulse to pull his hand away.

"Cahn you feel dis?" The doctor inserted a dull metal instrument into the wound and prodded the tender flesh inside. Germany shook his head and answered "_Nein_." The doctor shuddered for some unknown reason or another, Germany found it comical and resisted chuckling or even smiling. "Alrighd den." Italy nearly yelped when he saw the needle pierce the skin and the thread drawn through. What he couldn't control though was gripping Ludwig's hand even harder.

"It doesn'd hurd."

"But it looks like it does…" Slightly disturbed by Germany's voice, but determined to do his work, the physician continued meticulously re-threading the five torn stitches. He was pretty sure he could feel Germany watching him, judging him, if he didn't like the work he was doing could he have him taken out of the picture? This man was a country! What couldn't he do?!

Neither of the parties said anything for the better part of the fifteen minutes the doctor worked, there was the occasional yelp from Italy, but that was it. The silence was tense and awkward, but each was a bit nervous to break the quiet. It was possible the doctor was so nervous that he might screw up the job he was doing if noise was made. Really, in fact though, the silence did seem to be driving the man with the needle insane. The nurse was both afraid to say anything and afraid _not_ to…

"Would ya like somethin' t'eat sir?" She kindly asked, disturbing the silence. All sets of eyes turned to her, each seemed as clueless as the last as to what she had said. Silence ensued once more, however, this time was not just a little awkward, it was positively suffocating.

"Me?" Italy pointed to himself and the doctor looked back down to Ludwig's arm, finishing up his masterpiece. The nurse nodded, smiling sweetly to him. "Ah! Is there pasta here?!"

"Italy, it's hospidal foot, I doubd-"

"Of course." The nurse answered through Germany's pessimism.

"Really!?" Italy's stomach growled, he really hadn't eaten since… Well, noon probably. The nurse nodded and opened the door, waiting for Italy to stand up and follow. He cheered and stood, but as he started for the door he stopped and looked at Germany. The blonde merely waved his hand in an 'it's alright' motion, not saying anything. Considering what kind of man Italy was, and by the eyes the nurse was giving him, he knew she was going to be flirting with him… Most likely Italy was going to be flirting back… Germany wasn't totally sure if it was the useless frivolity of it all or if it annoyed him because… Because… His mind hit a blank, brick wall. He couldn't finish the sentence. It annoyed him more than the blood on the floor, the drying blood on his arm or even the flirting itself.

"Goh on, I'll be fine. I'm provably going back to schleep vhen he's done." Germany built up a barely discernible smile.

"Okay. Good night! Again!" Italy merrily told him before leaning down and pecking him on the cheek.

"Noh yelling, my het is killing me." Was Germany's only response as he worked his hardest to keep from becoming awkward with the two medical staff around.

"Oh." Italy lowered his voice to a whisper. "Sorry. Good night." He kissed the side of Germany's face again right before leaving the room with the nurse.

---

"Does he hit ya often?" The room was dark, the main lights operated by key rather than a normal light switch, the only light that was on was the emergency light above the door to the kitchen. A little light was from the street as the few windows in the room allowed the orangey glow in. Italy looked up from the bowl of spaghetti the nurse had given him to the worried woman. The question was certainly of a personal matter but Italy knew he could tell her. He chewed and swallowed the rest of the pasta hanging from his mouth before answering.

"No, not really. But, he's been stressed. Especially after Berlin and all the other cities today…" Italy frowned and let his fork sit in the pile of noodles and sauce, thinking about the people who died that day, the nurse's eyebrow rose, confused.

"What?"

"How do you not know?" Italy close to whined at her. "The only thing that has been on the news or will be is the-"

"No, I'm sorry, I mean… What do the terrorist attacks have t'do with him specifically?" Italy stared blankly at her for a few moments. He had yet to ever hear a human ask that before, not one over the age of ten anyway.

"You're American, right?" He made a blind guess by her close to southern drawl English. The nurse nodded, still very confused.

"Yes, why?"

"You've never seen Germany before then, have you?"

"I live here, I've seen it." She now seemed nearly offended, as if giving Italy her food was a bad idea.

"No! No!" He flailed his arms and held up his hands in a placating motion to calm her down. "That's not what I meant. I meant you have never seen Germany personally before. You've probably seen America a few times though." Recognition jumped to her face and she suddenly understood why the doctor had been so edgy earlier.

"I see… Does that mean that you really _are_ Italy? It's not just a nickname?" Feliciano enthusiastically nodded, wolfing down more pasta. "Were there other nations here waiting t'see him earlier? The three in the waiting room?" He nodded vigorously again as more pasta became one with his stomach.

"Prussia, Austria and Japan!" Italy said counting them off on his fingers.

"What's your real name? They all had them I remember." She was genuinely intrigued, back in America very few people actually knew what their nation's embodiment's name was. She remembered that awhile ago she thought they didn't have human names, they weren't supposed to be human after all.

"Feliciano!"

"Okay Feliciano, what if I told ya I didn't believe that ya are the embodiment of your country?" She crossed her legs watching him over the table. Italy seemed confused for a moment, not totally comprehending the meaning of her question..

"I'd ask you why you think that way."

"You're human. In every way that I see."

"Actually… I'm not sure what we can be called other than nations. When our country is hurt… We become hurt too."

"Are you sure he didn't just do it to himself? Sure the others didn't do it to themselves?"

"I have experienced it… Do not say that when you cannot even comprehend the fear. I nearly died a couple months ago, my brother too." He didn't sound so cheery anymore, he sounded terrified and sad. His face… It was enough to make the nurse wish she had never asked him her question to begin with. Whether or not she believed it didn't matter. This was a point of true fear to the man. "Things happen to us that I wish didn't, but at the same time, we can do things other's can't. Like, Miss Hungary for example, she can pull this frying pan out of nowhere. Prussia has this bird that's been alive for over twenty years just because it's with him, it hasn't gotten any bigger from when he initially found it either. Some of us that keep pets… They're all the same, they never age… They seem to be afflicted by the same thing that we are. Except," The now merry brunette laughed slightly. "they don't really have the same abilities as us, Hungary is a special case since she can pull her frying pan from nowhere wherever she is, the rest of us have to be within… Ourselves, I guess, in order to pull something from nowhere. We are also very strong… We can kill a human without even trying, people like Prussia, he doesn't like humans… He's often mean to them…" Now the Italian seemed glum once again. "I love humans though." He smiled cheerily to her again, the fear and sadness wiped off his face as if it had never been there.

"Were you ever human?" She wasn't totally sure upon whether or not she should continue this conversation. He seemed _very_ not right in the head.

"If I ever was, I can't remember. Many of us are so old that…"

"Old? You can't be a day over twenty." Italy smiled to himself.

"Thank you for saying so, you look great too!"

The nurse giggled at the seemingly meaningless compliment. "You know, I'm still pretty sure you're all insane. But you're cute." Italy's smile widened to a grin in his general flirty way. "So, if you were on the verge of death not so long ago, why do you look so healthy now?"

"I merged with Germany. If you don't know that means that we are married. But you already knew we were."

"So you're _North_ Italy. I heard the people of South Italy aren't really in favor of this, your country is now divided." Feliciano finished off his pasta and swallowed, frowning and nodding at the same time.

"My brother, _Italia Romano_, Southern Italy, was really not happy about it…" And the small man was frowning again.

"What's it like being married t'him?" Having immediately found this a sore point, the nurse decided to skip to a new topic.

"To Germany?" Italy shrugged, a smile on his face again. "He's my best friend. I practically lived with him already… Before the war happened that is…" Now the nurse was very confused.

"So, wait, ya two are married for political reasons strictly?" She felt that if she had been asking anyone else other than the mentally unsound man who thought he was a country that she would not be able to get away with asking all these questions. Most likely she was very correct.

"Yes." Italy answered, she smirked to herself then. He wasn't a patient, his _husband_ was and they didn't have a sexual relationship… She slipped her hand onto Feliciano's knee from underneath the small table. "Uhm, what are you doing?" He asked as her hand softly gripped his knee, she merely beckoned him closer with a finger. He leaned in with a mellow smile to hear what she had to say.

"Whaddaya say?" She whispered into his ear. Italy's face was blank, this woman said a lot that confused him… It wasn't her accent that made her so confusing neither.

"What do I say to what?" Was his clueless reply. The brown-haired woman sighed, half chuckling and pressed her cheek against his as she whispered again.

"I bet ya haven't had anythang since y'got married."

"Had what? I've had plenty of food, rest, I have had the bad luck of getting hit in the head, but that's all."

_No wonder he thinks he's a country…_ Was this man really _this _stupid or was he just playing at it? She didn't really think he was that dumb, he was slightly insane maybe, not dumb. "Let me spell it out for ya." Was her sensual whisper into Italy's ear as she bit down on its lobe. It was five-thirty, the pasta had been her unfinished dinner, no one was in the abandoned cafeteria. "S-E-X."

_Oh_. Italy's mind echoed within it's confines, she wanted to… _No! No, no, no, no!_ He jumped up from his chair, tripping backwards over it, the chair coming down with him in the end.

"Ow!" The nurse scrambled up to his side to help him up and to make sure the hit to the back of his head wasn't bleeding. "I'm sorry, but I can't." Italy said as she leaned down to inspect him.

"No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have even asked. It doesn't look like you're bleeding and you're still conscious so you should be fine." She grasped Italy's hand and helped him to his feet. He wobbled a little bit but was otherwise good to go.

"Again, I'm very sorry. But, I just met you." _And I don't want to kill you…_ The nurse simply smiled at him, but the smile was quickly interrupted as something seemed to catch her eye. Suddenly she shoved him out of the way as something black came out of his peripheral vision, whacking her in the temple. Italy didn't have a chance to scream as she fell to the floor limp, the attacker was on him now. Italy turned and ran, not getting very far as he tripped over the fallen chair, twisting his ankle and landing oddly on his wrist after contacting the tiled floor. He scrambled and squealed, attempting to disentangle himself from the chair, he wasn't fast enough though… The last thing he truly remembered was a muttering and a strike to the back of his head.

-----

Notes:

Hey this chapter doesn't have anything other than English in it XD. It's got one, I think and it's explained in an earlier chapter. You people who thought I couldn't do it, ha ha!

P.S. If anyone wants updates to come faster all you have to do is comment ;) constructive criticism is always welcome btw.

Well that's all I have to say once again.

_Edit_

Accents fixed, expanded, minor cleaning.


	8. Aftermath VIII Cold

Ludwig was awoken at seven-thirty later in the morning. The man above him looked like a police officer, he was much too tired to fully comprehend what that meant. The officer was speaking at him in English, it took him a moment for his brain to unscramble it.

"She vas lasd seen valking avay vid your husbant. She ist now in de intensife care unid for damage to her skull und your husbant is missing."

"_Was hast du gesagt_?" He knew he was unable to correctly articulate English at this time so wasn't even going to try.

"I sait, your assignt nurse vas fount in de cafederia dis morning vid visible signs of assauld upon her het und your husbant vas de lasd person to be seen vid her. He is nohvhere to be fount." The officer repeated for the barely conscious man.

"Italy ish mischink?" He managed in slurred English, attempting to sit up. He was quickly reminded, however of the shape he was in when not just his sore arm hurt. The officer morbidly nodded, Ludwig's heart nearly jumped from his chest in fear. "Vere dere schecuridy cameras anyvhere?" It was a slightly dumb question, but he was still half asleep.

"Ve're heving dem checkt now." Germany's fists were clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms and creating painful crescents in his skin. "Bud, de gut nuvs for you, is dat dere vere signs of forct entry found. Soh, it is nod likely for him to be suspecdet in de crime of assault upon _Fräulein_ Harrison. Bud, de bet nuvs ist dat if dis ist de case und _Herr_ Vargas ist missing, it ist possible dat he hes been abductet." Germany wasn't sure which outcome he preferred, either way it was a bad deal for both Italy and him too.

_Romano._ He guessed, but then he rethought it, he was no ninja if anything was for sure. So it was completely possible that, as he had guessed, another country had done it for him. He cursed that he didn't get the chance to tell his theory to Gilbert, even worse, he didn't know who to even begin to suspect if it wasn't Romano. America could never do it, he would most likely be too loud and obvious. Plus his morals, most likely, wouldn't allow him to. England was great though… But, Romano would never in a thousand years get up the guts to order England of all people around. France and Spain were out for obvious reasons, if they even came in contact with either of the brothers serious shit was to be going down. Austria, Prussia and Japan were out too, Japan had wanted nothing to do with this and Austria with Prussia had been on his side. As his list of potentials dwindled so did his faith in solving this.

"Do you hev any ideas _Herr_ Beilschmidt?" The officer asked. Ludwig could only shake his head and reply weakly, "Nod a clue."

---

The room was dark, it was cold and the very air seemed to have a hard edge to it. The chair was made of metal and the binding, bulky twine ground around Italy's wrists and bare ankles. Slowly, consciousness came to him, it wasn't a pleasant thing neither as all these things suddenly became painfully alive. His teeth chattered at the cold atmosphere and inhaled air and his bound wrists and ankles barely had feeling due to the tightness of the rope.

He whined to himself, trying to assess the situation, something he hadn't had to do in a long time since usually all he had to do was call Germany.

"Heeelp!" He screamed, panicking and hopping up and down with the chair he was tied to. "Help! It's cold in here and I'm hungry!!!" He flailed around for about five more minutes, but that yielded no results he could use. The only thing it did was make him tired and gave him some nasty rope burns on his wrists and ankles. "Ludwig." He hiccupped as his hope dwindled, his stomach growled, reminding him that the pasta earlier was really sub-par, he just didn't have the heart to tell the woman… _No! Think about what's happening now!_ He chastised himself, thinking of what his husband would say to him.

A bright light suddenly broke the dark, Italy attempted to turn himself around to see the door it was coming from, he judged from the shadow on the wall that someone was still standing in the door. The shadow got bigger slowly, Italy sat completely straight, trying not to shake as the shadow's owner came to stand by him. A hand gripped his shoulder's lightly.

"I'm sorry! Please don't hit me! Don't shoot me! Don't hurt me! I'll tell you whatever you want!" His ineffectual flailing started again as he desperately tried to hop away from whoever it was at his shoulder. The hand moved from his shoulder and pinched his _ahoge_ between it's thumb and forefinger. He yelped and froze in place as the hand gently pulled at it.

"Does this work on your brother too?" An unfamiliar and inoffensively light voice asked from his side. Italy couldn't respond due to the rather unwelcome sensation coming from the strand of hair. He managed to twitch his head in a nod. Curious, the hand rolled the hair around between the two fingers producing a light moan from the Italian. "Uh… I'm sorry." Whoever it was released the hair, much to Italy's relief. They stepped around him to his other side before speaking again. "I suppose you might be wondering why you're here…" The captor really didn't know, their partner in all this really hadn't been specific as to what they were supposed to do. They couldn't let little Italy know that though.

Italy jerkily nodded, shaking with fear more than the cold of the room. He tried to focus on the mist his breath made when he breathed out more than the person behind him.

"You'll learn about that soon enough." The hand returned, this time to his other shoulder. "But, until then, I should take care of you. Are you hungry?" Italy relaxed a little, they weren't going to kill him yet… Might as well take their kindness where it was given.

"Yes!" He cheerily replied, it fell slightly flat when his voice shook half way through the word. "Do you have pasta?"

"No, sorry. I'll be right back." The hand left and the light was obscured by the shadow of the presumable man once more as they left the room.

"Wait! W-who are you?!" The shadow stopped getting smaller and changed shape, they were looking over their shoulder at him.

"You can't tell?" The light voice said somewhat down in mood.

"Uhh… Should I be able to?" Italy was sweating with nerves, he wished he could control it because all it was serving to do was make him colder.

"No, I guess it's okay…" The way the voice made it sound seemed that it really was not okay with them, but they would deal with it. The room was suddenly completely dark once more, the only noise being Italy's scared breathing and his heartbeat in his ears.

Ten minutes later a smell floated through the cold air, it didn't really smell that bad, he sure hoped whatever it was his captor was making he would get some. As long as his captor wasn't England that was.

It was not long after that the light spread from the spot near the back of the large room, the aroma of food and warmer air rushed in with it. The captor's footsteps rang through the largely empty room against the cement floor as the shadow on the wall got larger. Italy could hear them putting a plate on the floor along with the clinking of plastic silverware. There was a soft sound too, like a large blanket being unwrapped.

Italy nearly screamed as the large blanket he heard was thrown over him and tied back around his neck.

"You're probably cold." The voice said as a pair of hands tucked the blanket around Italy's form. "I don't want you dying yet."

"Whe-Where am I?" Italy asked, slightly grateful for the blanket but also afraid because it was tied around his neck.

"My house." The voice answered.

"I-Ivan?" Italy stuttered, afraid the answer was going to be 'yes'. Yes he could act like a fool around Russia and not care about it, but when faced one on one with him… At his house, in the cold, he knew the man's temperament and it scared him.

"No." Italy relaxed, but only slightly, he still didn't know who it was. He flinched as the hands came off him and the clinking of a plate… No, two plates, was heard. His captor came around to his front and sat down, the light glinting off a pair of glasses and blonde hair.

"America!?" Italy yelped upon figuring out who had blonde hair and glasses. America frowned at his guess and picked up a plate of food and sat it on Italy's lap, ceasing the man's squirming. The plate was hot!!! The blonde stuck a see-through, plastic fork in the mix of foods in the bowl-like plate. It looked fries with something white in it covered in some kind of brown sauce… Italy would've cringed if it would not have knocked over the bowl of hot stuff onto his lap.

"I'm not America." The blonde stuck his own fork into his bowl-plate of food and ate one of the fries.

"Not… But you are blonde! You have glasses! Your eyes are!… Your eyes are…." Italy squinted against the glare off his captor's glasses. "Your eyes are violet…" Italy thought for a moment who else looked like America… He came up with one person, but couldn't remember who it was. "So, who are you?" The man he was talking to frowned hopelessly, as if something had been proven correct.

_Why is Romano always right about that_? Canada sighed to himself, looking back up at the clueless and confused Italy tied to a chair. He might as well tell him, he'll just forget about him fifteen minutes later just like everyone else.

"Canada." He took another bite of his _poutin_, he wasn't going to feed Italy until he was sure he wasn't going to freak out on him. Recognition wasn't fast in coming to Italy's face, but after about two minutes it finally hit him.

"Matthew, right?!" Canada nodded and ate a little more of his food. Italy looked back down to the food in his lap, clearly wondering how he was going to eat it with all his useful appendages restrained. Canada set aside his plate of food and got up from his sitting position to sit on his knees, taking the plate and fork off Italy's lap.

"Open your mouth please." He asked nicely as Italy gave his food one last skeptical look before opening his mouth. Canada skewered a fry and a globule of white on the fork he provided for Italy and put it into his mouth.

Italy chewed the food, it wasn't heavily spiced but it was pleasant. He blinked and looked at Canada for a moment before asking him "What is this?"

"It's called _poutin_." Italy looked down at the plate of food and back up to Canada.

"It's good, I've never heard of it before." Canada smiled slightly, in the low light Italy almost looked exactly like Lovino.

"Now you have. Enjoy it while you can." The blonde warned as he fed Italy another bite. He was totally unsure how to follow up that threat since Lovino had neglected to tell him anything else to do.

_"I want you to go that that hospital Germany is at and capture my stupid brother." Romano told Canada over the phone at about midnight._

_"But I thought you said we were going to wait?" Matthew tiredly responded, flipping on his light._

_"I changed my mind."_

Again?_ He thought to himself and ruffled his already sleep-mussed hair. "Well… What do you want me to do?"_

_"Sneak in, make sure no one sees you alright? I want to you capture Feliciano and take him back to your house. Make sure you tie him alright? Scare him a bit too."_

_"Alright… Lovino, do I have to remind you that I'm anything but scary?"_

_"He'll think you're America unless you say something." Matthew frowned to himself as he realized that this was probably true, he denied it anyway._

_"I don't think so. But… I still don't know what this is going to accomplish. And Germany's in the hospital, I don't know how I'm going to get Italy away from him for two seconds let alone long enough to abduct him."_

_"You'll come up with something Matthew. I know you will." And with that Lovino hung up on him. Leaving Canada at a loss for what to do, he put the phone back on the base and sighed, slumping back to the bed even though he knew he should be getting ready._

_After laying in bed another ten minutes he forced his hide up and went to get ready to go along with another of Lovino's plans._

_He called me Matthew again…_ He thought as he remembered the morning. Really, he decided that he liked being called by his human name… But why didn't he feel the same way he did then when Alfred called him by his name? He thought of Lovino saying his name again and was surprised when his heart sped up a little. He blushed slightly as he fed Italy more _poutin_. He wished vainly that Lovino would appear at his house sometime but he knew that was not what he needed now.

How did he feel about Lovino though? Did he withhold the letter from Spain for a more selfish reason or had it really been because he was afraid of how Lovino would've reacted? How angry would Lovino be with him if he ever found out that he was keeping that from him?

Romano's plan was so stupid and it was getting more complicated. He didn't need to complicate this more with his personal feelings about the nation himself. He sighed once again and fed Italy.

He nearly dropped the entire plate and Italy about fell over when the both of them heard a loud crash out in Canada's house. Thinking of the consequences he and Lovino both could face if he had been found out been found out Canada put the plate down and dashed for the open door. Italy was panicking and carrying on behind him, he almost told him to be quiet. Only a few feet more to the door, never was he ever going to be doing this for Romano ever again, no matter how much he begged.

Canada's breath caught in his throat as a form moved to obscure the light from the door before he could make it over. He skidded to a stop six feet from the door, the bright lights obscuring whoever it was as they surveyed the room.

"What the hell is going on here!?"

---

"You dink Romano coult hev done it?" Ludwig asked Gilbert who was sitting in the chair Italy had occupied the night before. Gilbert thought for a moment about this, really only a moment as it did not require much thought at all.

"I don'd dink he dit it personally, I dink he god somevon else to do it." There wasn't an ounce of questioning just who had been behind it, just who had personally beaten the nurse and stolen Italy away from his brother. "Do you know if de securidy camera's vere vorking aht de time?"

Germany nodded and groaned before replying. "_Ja_, dey say dat dey are mosd likely male in between 177 and 174 centimeders. Hair und skin color dey cahn'd tell, de assailand vas coveret compledely in black." Gilbert touched his chin in a thoughtful gesture.

"De frusdrading ding aboud dat is… Dat bod Englant und America fit in dat range. Und you alreaty dit bring up dat it vouldn'd hev been dem for dif'rnd reasons. Vaid…" He knew of one other person who was with Romano that day two months ago at the conference… He had been talking to him along with the other two blondes. Though he really didn't wish to accuse this man of anything, they hadn't been in contact for so long, it was possible. "Canada vas vid dem…" He mumbled absently to himself, he was probably the only person who wouldn't have forgotten that, even Ludwig would've even after their extensive history.

"Canada?" Ludwig asked, very confused about his choice of a person to accuse. "I don'd dink it vas him. Vhat reason does Romano hev for…" And it hit Germany just how effective a spy the man would be… No one ever noticed him… Canada had once stood next to him for twenty minutes and he hadn't noticed him until Gilbert had walked into the room and started talking with him… "Do you really dink it vas him?" In all honesty, Ludwig somewhat doubted that, given the two's history.

"Noh, bud I dink ve coult talk to him aboud Romano. I don'd know if dey schtill are fruends or nod. If dey ahre den he mighd know vhat ist going on."

"Dey're freunds?"

"_Ja_, aht leasd I dought dey vere since dey talkt to each oder direcdly avder de meeding for vhatefer reason. He vas also von of dem to come avder me vhile I vas taking Romano for interrogation." Ludwig stared at the man. He couldn't remember Canada for two hours why did Gilbert remember him for two months? Did his brother just have better memory than him or something? _Even_ given their history, whenever Prussia's recovery after the fall of the Wall was brought up he had to be reminded of the small Canadian.

Gilbert hummed thoughtfully to himself, tapping his fingers against his chin again. He stood up out of the chair and took his uniform jacket off the side of the bed, pulling it on.

"Vhere ahre you going?"

"You're betritten, so I'm going to talk to Canada myselv. Visch me luck _Westen_."

"_Unglück_." Ludwig replied sarcastically, firmly wishing he could go with Gilbert in case he was going to find any resistance in the other nation. Gilbert chuckled to himself before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Gilbert really had other reasons for visiting Canada, he had just been waiting for the correct opportunity. He didn't want to seem like some emotional little pansy.

-----

Notes:

Was hast du gesagt-- What did you say?

Fräulein- Ms.

Herr-- Mr

Ahoge-- Literally meaning "foolish hair" it is what the curlicue of hair on the side of Italy and Romano's head is formally called.

Poutin-- A popular dish native to Canada made up of French fries with fresh cheese curds thrown over top and then topped off with brown gravy. Occasionally other ingredients are added to it. It is sold nearly everywhere, even at McDonalds and there are street vendors for it, much like there are for hotdogs in America.

Ungluck-- Bad luck/Unfortunate

Canada-- If any confusion about Canada's appearance came up for the people who watch the anime and haven't seen much of the official art and or haven't read his profile here is some clarification. He is labeled as having violet eyes, they were altered to dark blue, much like Russia's in the anime.

Gilbert-- Special note of awesomeness concerning him, he is the only character who has come into contact with Canada that has never forgotten who he is.

174-177 centimeters-- About 5'8-5'9 for my fellow Alfredians who don't feel like going to a converter.

Don't have much else to say about this chapter, but I can say some manipulation be goin' down next chapter. Please review, it boosts my motivation for you people who want to read it.

_Edit_

Whoot! Accent, grammar and continuity issues!


	9. Aftermath IX Byzantine

Note: There is a lot of cursing in this one and some firing of the F-Bomb.

-----

"What the fuck?!" The intruder yelled, Canada backed away, searching his empty belt for something that was about to be there. This was his country, he had the advantage here. From his new found position he had an easier time making out who the intruder was. "What do you mean tying up my brother and sticking him in your freezing garage, Canada?!" Romano yelled in anger.

"But wai-" Canada shut his mouth and hit the cement floor, escaping the gunfire as Romano pulled a hidden gun and fired on him three times in quick succession. He gritted his teeth and jumped to his feet, making a mad dash for his car and ducking behind it. He produced a gun from his belt and cautiously peered around the car. Another shot was fired, slicing a few strands of yellow from his head.

As Canada returned fire, Italy whined in fear, attempting to hop with the chair away from the loud shots and ricocheting bullets. Determinedly he hopped towards a metal cabinet. Just a few more feet! Two shots were heard simultaneously as Canada had pulled another handgun from his belt. A bullet whizzed by Italy's head, startling him and making him cry out. There was the sound of a shattering plate as a bullet ricocheted off the metal walls in the darkness.

"Don't you move!" He yelled as best he could, his Quebecois accent making itself known.

"Don't order him around!" Romano ran over to Feliciano to stand in front of the helpless man. Canada took aim and fired, tearing into the skin on Romano's arm, blood spattering the side of Italy's head as the hot bullet tore skin away from its body. "Fuck!" He fired the last of his bullets, getting Canada in the shoulder, the second bullet found a sticking place in the blonde's left hand, about severing his middle finger as it passed through. Canada growled and gritted his teeth against the pain and slid down behind the car as his broken fingers screamed at him for attention. The hot bullet lodged in his shoulder wasn't pleasant either.

_Dammit Romano, you better have a damn good explanation for this!_ He spat angrily in his head. He could hear Romano cutting Italy's bonds and the two running together from the garage. "_Putain de merde_." He moaned, the blood trickled down his arm, staining the concrete of the floor. At least it had only been his left hand, if that had been purposeful on Romano's part he did not know. He doubted he would be able to get much use out of his left hand for a long time. He cursed Romano again for it. "Why did he shoot me like that?" Romano had really, actually** shot**him! And he shot back, mostly for appearance, he hadn't truly meant to hit his arm, he meant for it to miss. Which, he guessed, was why the bullet only nicked him. Romano had certainly done a lot more damage than that though, paying Canada back ten fold with a bullet to the shoulder and a nearly amputated middle left finger. He snorted at how Romano was easily manipulating the situation. He could only imagine what Lovino was saying to the boy.

He gritted his teeth as he stood up made his way to the door to the rest of the house. It was cold and he was losing blood.

---

"Thank you for saving me!" Feliciano threw his arms around Lovino as the two escaped back to their home country… Or what was left of it. Lovino had to beat him off his shoulders so the two could run without much difficulty.

"I couldn't leave you with that guy! No one even remembers who he is, if I hadn't saved you no one would've remembered to!" The blood coming from his arm flew to the ground as they ran, catching Feliciano's attention.

"Oh no! You're hurt too! God, stop!" Feliciano grabbed Lovino's arm, slowing them to an eventual stop. Feliciano ignoring the sting in his toes as he only had socks on his feet. He was also ignoring the zing that alerted him that his wrist had something wrong with it, it now throbbed hotly.

"We don't have to stop Veneziano! We have to keep going!"

"But you're hurt!" Romano groaned.

"It's only a flesh wound. It'll stop before long."

"Are you sure?" Romano confidently nodded, taking his brother's hand and starting to run again. Feliciano bit his lip against the pain in his throbbing wrist, yep he was sure he had done something to it when he fell in the cafeteria. The air was cold, the wind making it worse, Feliciano clutched the blanket closer to himself with his free hand as Romano broke into a mess of snow covered bushes, yanking Italy with him. "Bro, where are we going?" It was then Feliciano saw where Lovino had been taking him. It really had confused Italy on whether or not they were going to try to _walk_ home.

Back at the house, the brothers sat down and got reacquainted over dinner after they splinted and wrapped Feliciano's sprained wrist. They had cleaned up Romano's arm too, he was going to need stitches but the bleeding had stopped long ago. Italy relayed to him everything that had happened since he and Germany had gotten married. It made Romano sick just how happy he really was. There were very few times he spoke of unpleasant things and when he did, they were very minor. He did say, however how he was disappointed with Germany's keeping facts from him. Italy had thought that _one_ terrorist attack had occurred that week, the one that Italy himself had been involved in. There had been numerous ones, creating the new scars on his love's skin. He did ask if Romano knew why Canada had abducted him, to which Romano simply responded that he did not know. He threw out that Canada wanted attention, but inside knew that Canada was not like that and never would be. Either way, whether it was happy or sad, Romano hated every minute of Feliciano's talking about Germany.

"But things are really going great! I've missed you and your cooking so much. I was beginning to think that I would never taste it again." Feliciano smiled to Lovino cheerily. Really, he was worried about Ludwig in the hospital, but it was as sure as the sun would rise that Gilbert was there with him. Plus he and his brother hadn't spoken in some time and he really needed to catch up with him.

"The bruise on your face…" Veneziano reached up and gingerly touched it. He decided a lie was best.

"Canada did it." Romano gave him a look, his brother was terrible at lying and there were very frew things he'd try to lie about.

"You don't bruise that fast. Unless… how long were you there?"

"He hit me last night. So… What time is it?"

"About 17:00." Italy calculated in his head how long it had taken them to get back to Italy, about two hours so he had been there nearly eight hours.

"He must've hit me again if I woke up." He was lying through his teeth by this point. Romano had had enough of this.

"Veneziano, you're a terrible liar, did Germany do that?" He spat the other nation's name as if it were a form of curse.

"No! He would never-"

"Feliciano!" The younger nation frowned and nodded, he knew he was bad at lying, but he had to try. 'Why?" Romano_ demanded_ to know why in the hell Germany even laid a single hand on Feliciano.

"Because I was bothering him." Veneziano replied meekly, he would have to ask Romano sooner or later about the attacks.

"Because you were _bothering_ him?!" And there was the yelling, he leaned away form his more violent brother, this might get ugly.

"He really believes that you sent the terrorists to attack him."

_How did that damn potato freak know?! __**Prussia**__!_ Romano laughed, "What? He accuses _**me**_ of attacking him!" Then he got pissed… "Weren't you hurt too earlier in the week?!" Feliciano nodded solemnly.

"I told him that. You wouldn't do that. He didn't believe me." Romano almost felt sorry for tricking Feliciano like this… His brother's love and single-hearted trust in him as he lied. But he was Feliciano's only older brother, he had to steer him in the right direction.

"It wasn't me. I promise you." it was so easy to fool him, he had to suppress a smirk.

"Thank you." Feliciano sounded more relieved than he ever had before. "How is your arm?" Lovino looked at his wrapped upper arm and rotated it a few times.

"It hurts, but it will heal." Romano thought of Canada then for a moment. He'd unintentionally shot his fingers as well as his shoulder. But really, Matthew shot him first! Well, to be technical, he himself fired first, but he knew Matthew would duck! Did Matthew think that he had been serious about the whole thing? Would he refuse to talk to him or help? He hadn't thought of that, so he resolved to call Canada at the earliest convenient time.

"Uhm, how has it been over here? You look great." Romano looked himself over, when had his scars closed up? When had his skin become it's normal color and his hair stopped falling out?

"It's been alright I guess, nothing big."

"Have you heard from Antoni-"

"Do not say his name!" Lovino jumped to his feet to yell. Veneziano backed away from him, he had expected the two to at least be on speaking terms by now. But, considering that it _was_ Romano, he decided it all the same really wasn't surprising.

"Alright."

---

Canada wrapped his hand, after the bullet had hit his finger it continued to streak over the back of his hand. It was a terrible mess and he doubted he would be able to fully recover from it. Nonetheless, he still counted himself as lucky to have the finger and probably always would. Damn was he going to yell at Romano about this later. However, he knew from the pain and small range of motion that the rest of his hand was in bad shape too. "_Putain de merde."_ He growled as he used a pair of hot, sterilized tongs to reach back and remove the bullet from his left shoulder. He had to clench his jaw to keep from stopping, to keep from crying, screaming. In one quick jerk, the tongs and bullet were out, both sitting in his sink. Blood came again, quickly he grabbed a pile of gauze and wadded it up, pressing them to the open wound to staunch the bleeding.

The blood stopped sooner than he thought it would, he tossed the wadded up pads into the garbage. Making another wad and sticking it over the hole, he wrapped bandages around himself to keep it in place due to his profound lack of medical tape.

There was a knock to his front door…. He cursed lightly as he threw the medical supplies into a cabinet. Running down the stairs (a very painful twenty-two steps) he grabbed his long beige coat from its place on his rack and threw it on. Canada zipped it up to hide his chest and wrapped bullet wound, he didn't, however, put a pair of gloves on to disguise his hand as the knock came again. Scrambling for the door and just putting his left hand in his pocket he timidly turned the doorknob, afraid of who might be out there. Upon opening the door he realized that this was indeed an occasion, Prussia stared back at him from the snow-covered stoop of his house. Canada never got visitors, least of all during his winters, he looked up to the top of Prussia's head… His bird was there and shivering…

Canada nearly made a snarky comment at him, but refrained for fear he would not remember the joke. He hadn't seen Gilbert in so long... The two hadn't spoken to one another since the war began. In the past week he had been so stressed out he had forgotten the existence of his best friend. Perhaps it had been because he'd taken Prussia's presence for granted, the man had practically lived with him previously. But how Prussia stood now. How he looked at him... Could it have been possible that he had forgotten ever being friends? Just because he still remembered Canada's name didn't prove he still remembered what they used to be.

"Ueh, Prussia, hello." Canada greeted, a little bit apprehensive of how the man would act. Did he even _want_ to be friends anymore. Canada guessed probably not when Prussia's only reply was "Canada." The albino nodded, regarding Matthew as a respected enemy of war… Prussia was usually like that though, no reason to freak out yet… At least, hopefully not… Canada nearly cried as Gilbert's gaze and offensive stance never changed, were they really over?

"Can I help you?" Canada asked as if nothing were wrong.

"I hev some qvestions dat neet answering." He pushed past Canada into his house, taking his jacket off a moment later and putting it on the coat rack. Canada closed the door and half smiled to himself, grateful for Prussia's familiarity with the house and his rudeness. He nearly laughed as he realized how stupid it was to be comforted by someone being rude. The bird on Prussia's head shook the snow off itself and seemed to snuggle into his hair.

"Uhm, okay… Prussia… That bird…" It was nothing new, he just felt like commenting on it.

"Birt? Vhat birt?" Prussia examined himself for a few moments before looking at Canada as if he were crazy.

"The one on your head…"

"My het?" His hand went up to feel his head, the bird didn't seem to mind Prussia touching it and plucking it from his head. He examined it for a few moments before sticking it back on his head and letting it go about its business. "_Dat_ birt, I knew it vas dere." Canada wasn't quite sure how true that was, but Prussia wasn't really one to admit otherwise.

"So uehm, you had questions for me?" Where was Kumajiro? Right on cue the bear strolled into the room. "Ah! Kumakichi! There you are!" Canada leaned down and picked him up, clutching him to his chest. He realized that Gilbert forgetting so much really wasn't that big a surprise. Even the great and awesome Prussia had his limits of uninteresting things he could remember. Really he didn't have the right to be too offended.

"Who're you?" The bear asked, turning his nose up to look at Canada.

"I'm _Canada_." He almost whined to the white fuzz-ball. Prussia watched with amusement as the bird on his head chirped twice. He plucked the bird from his head for a moment and looked it over. How long had it been sitting up there?

"Jus don'd crap on my het." He commented to the bird before putting it back, it chirped happily. Canada gave him a queer look as he leaned down and picked Kumajiro up with his right arm. That didn't mean his left didn't protest, but it was bearable.

"I don't think that-"

"You hev a talking polar bear." That ended the argument before it even began. Canada knew that if the argument had started he would undeniably lose since, well… Prussia was Prussia. A smile had to be suppressed on Canada's part.

"Uhm… I have left over _poutin_ if you're hungry." Prussia nodded and fondly looked about the house. He missed this place, it was larger than his own place back in East Germany. The dish Canada mentioned sounded familiar, he just couldn't figure out why.

"Vhere voult you prefer to talk?" Canada was being so polite to him today, how weird.

"My kitchen is fine." So both of the them headed for Canada's kitchen. Canada made sure to close the garage door, which had been left open, before Prussia followed him in. He did not want to explain the sight of blood on his floor as well as a chair with slashed bulky twine by it. A groan escaped his throat as he remembered the shattered plate on the floor in there. He was going to love cleaning that up.

"Mmm, vhat efer dis _poutin_ ding is, it schmells goot." Perhaps it was a bit cruel for Prussia to act as if he had forgotten so much about Canada, but he was acting so strange. He was going to act strange back until he figured out what was up with Canada's personality change. Could it merely have been the man had changed so much in the recent years that he no longer wished to be friends? A worried grunt escaped him, he noticed Canada's left hand as he took it from his coat pocket to mess with the pot holding a brown sauce. He also exhibited a great lack of motor ability in flexing it. "Vhat dit you do to your hant?" Canada twitched before laughing nervously and scratching the back of his head with his right hand after passing Kumajiro painfully to his left.

"I smashed it in a door during a fight with America. Nearly lost my finger." That certainly caught Prussia's attention.

"Your finger?"

"Yeah, my middle one. Really, sometimes I think my brother really _doesn't_ know how strong he is. I heard from England once, that when he was still a child, he picked a charging bull up _off_ the ground!" He smiled, thinking of his brother. Canada, in actuality, was an effective liar, he just never practiced it enough for this fact to become known. But oh how he hated, hated, _hated_ lying to this man.

"Peh, figures you nearly losd von of your more _useful_ vons. Is it going to be alrighd?" Canada put the bowl-plate in front of him with a fork and raised his bandaged hand to look at it. He ignored the glint of concern in the pair of red eyes, taking it as an illusion.

"Remains to be seen." He tried to flex the muscles underneath the bandages, only for the various shattered bones to scream in agony. "Im pretty sure some other bones are broken too." Prussia's right eyebrow rose.

"How long ago vas it?"

"Earlier today actually."

"Led me see it den." Both the torn, tattered skin and the burns, along with the hole would give away that a door definitely had not done it. He didn't like shutting Gilbert out, but thanks to Romano the two were now enemies.

"No, it's fine, I'm going to go see a doctor anyway. It really hurts unwrapping it too."

"Liddle pain nefer hurd anyvon." Gilbert growled coldly.

"_Please_ Prussia… You're here for a reason?" Prussia growled but remember that he _was_ in Canada's territory. The two used to be best friends! He could've been nicer about telling him off. Really he was there for a reason too.

"Alrighd. I'm here to see if you mighd know aboud de attack on Germany." Prussia took a bite of the food, chewing it and giving it a queer look as he did.

_Oh... That's right..._

"Everyone knows about it, it's all over the news." Prussia sat the fork down as Canada went to get himself his own bowl of _poutin_. After not being able to finish his earlier meal this was welcome.

"Dat's nod exacdly vhat I meand." The bird on Prussia's head chirped as he pushed the bowl of food away from himself. Canada hadn't missed Prussia's refusal to eat the food, everyone's a critic. Hadn't he remembered that Prussia didn't like _poutin_? Why wasn't he openly complaining!? He nearly ground his teeth, frustrated that Prussia was censoring his behavior around _Matthew_ of all people. At least Canada knew he had taste buds. Prussia hadn't spit it out or dropped gagging to the floor like most people did with England's food. But then again, Prussia generally liked Canada's cooking, especially his breakfasts.

"Do you want water instead?" Canada took a bite of the last of the _poutin_ before setting his bowl down. Prussia nodded and Canada went to a cabinet to get a glass. "What did you mean then?" The blonde asked, getting them back on track.

"Do you know who dit it?"

"No. I don't have the faintest idea." Canada returned to the table, sitting the glass of tap water down in front of Prussia. "Are you assuming I was involved in some way?" Canada sat down in the chair across from Prussia's, giving him a look.

"Noh, noh. Nod aht ahll. I just vanted to know if you hef been aht leasd keeping in contacd vid Romano." Canada skewered a fry and ate it as Prussia explained himself. Canada frowned at Gilbert's non-reaction, all he was doing was being polite!

"Not a lot of communication is going on. You're the only one that remembers I exist that's not my next door neighbor brother." The white-haired man nodded, tapping his fingers and sipping water. Canada almost frowned at Prussia's readily agreeing with him, but why say anything else on the matter? It really was true that most people forgot he existed.

"Can you put me down?" Canada obliged the white bear he had been carrying around the kitchen.

"Do you want Prussia's _poutin_?" Kumajiro nodded and Canada placed the bowl on the floor.

"Do you know anyvon dat hes been?" Canada sucked on his tongue in a thoughtful gesture before answering him. "Other than America and England, I don't know. Unless his brother has been talking to him." Prussia shook his head.

"Italy is missing."

"Missing?!" Canada dropped his fork and began to stand as if he would help look then and there. Prussia waved him down to his chair again. "Missing like how?"

"He vas abductet from de hospidal." Canada did a wonderful job of acting speechless. "Whoefer it vas ahlso attacket de nurse. Clubbet her in de temple vid a blund objecd." He punctuated his revelation by tapping his right temple with a finger. "It appearet to be a black jack." Had Canada remembered to put that away?!

"What?" He took another bite to prevent himself from making a face.

"It's ahlod like a sant bag. It's compresset indo leader and fery hart. Usually it is jus uset to knock people oud from behint, bud it is effective to kill somevon vid too." If Canada had killed her he certainly hadn't counted on it.

"Is she still alive?"

"_Ja_, she's nod deat. Jus incapacidatet." Canada visibly relaxed and took the last bite of his _poutin_ in the bowl. "Soh sensitive Canada. She vas only a human. _Is _only a human."

"I hold them in high esteem, though, you know that. What would a nation be without its inhabitants? Who was that one human you really liked?" Canada pretended not to remember. A reminiscent smile found it's way to Prussia's well-disguised visage.

"Old Fritz." The bird on Prussia's head chirped and played with a hair. "Schtop dat!" He waved his hand over the bird in a shooing motion. The bird hopped from his head and hovered laboriously above the hand, dropping back down to his nest of white after Prussia put his hand down.

Prussia sighed and mumbled something to himself, he had really thought that Canada would know something. How could he face his brother empty-handed? He stood and took a drink from the glass that Canada had given him.

"You're leaving already?" Canada asked, not wanting him to leave yet. Despite his rather precarious position, he wanted to reacquaint himself with the man. Their friendship had been one of the best things he had ever experienced and he wanted it back.

"_Ja_ I hev to go tell Germany you ditn'd know anyding. I vas hoping you voult hev known someding. He von'd admid it, bud he's scaret aboud dis. If you fint anyding oud, tell me alrighd?" Canada didn't speak, afraid his voice would betray him in some way. He nodded and smiled. "Dank you Canada."

"It's no problem. I'm worried for Italy too." At least that wasn't a lie. Prussia turned and left the kitchen, Canada stood, following him out to the entrance hall. The red-eyed man pulled on his coat, his bird snuggled down into his hair.

"Dank you for your hospidality Canada."

_Stop being so goddamn polite!!_ He couldn't stand it! Gilbert's politeness was practically an insult! It was as if he were throwing away years, upon years, upon _years_ of friendship! He had already assessed that he probably didn't remember much but that was even worse! He was so frustrated he felt like crying.

"Like I said, no problem." Prussia nodded to him one last time before throwing open the door. A wall of white rushed in to meet them both, quickly, Prussia slammed the door.

"Hokay! Ve ahre nod leafing!" Prussia reached up to feel for the yellow bird. "You okay up dere?" The bird cheeped meekly, shivering. At that point, red-eye looked to Canada and arched an eyebrow.

"You know what America says about Ohio, right?"

"Vhat?"

"If you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes. Sometimes I feel it applies here too."

"I neet a guesd room."

_Did I ever offer to _let_ you stay?_ Canada's mind snarkily replied. His external self merely smiled and complied since really it would be unkind to shove Prussia into the blizzard. Especially since _he_ still remembered their history. It was oddly comforting for Gilbert's overt familiarity and rudeness with what Canada's choice would've been. Allowing him to stay without question or a single word.

"You sait 'vaid ten minudes'… Ahm I going to be here ahll nighd?" Prussia said as he sat on the edge of the bed in his designated room. Canada sighed and nodded, while good weather certainly was fickle here snowy weather was not. Especially during winter. Well, technically it was fall, but whatever.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could control my own weather." Prussia waved him off. Didn't everyone at one point or another wish that?

"It's okay." Canada's phone rang then, startling him and making him tense. This caused his shoulder and hand to let him know they weren't pleased.

"I'll be right back."

---

It was a well-known myth that Romano _had_ no office in his house as he seemed to have to need of one. Now he had one alright… Albeit a bit dusty. He tapped his fingers impatiently as he waited for Canada to pick up.

Feliciano was asleep in bed down the hall, he was glad for it too, he had nearly found the monitor storage.

"_Bonjour_?" Canada finally answered, he sounded angry.

"How is your hand?" Romano cut right to the chase, none of that beating around the bush bullshit. He could hear an exasperated groan from the other side of the phone.

"You nearly took off my middle finger and you tore up the back of my hand. I'm pretty sure most, if not all of my bones are cracked or broken." The anger in Canada's voice was a quiet thing, Romano could tell though he was furious and wanted an explanation.

"I wasn't aiming for your hand at all… And I was hoping the bullet wouldn't get stuck behind your shoulder blades… Are you alright now?"

"Prussia is in one of my guest rooms."

"What!? You traitorous-"

"Shh, shh, calm down. I haven't told him anything." Now something about that just didn't seem right to Lovino. He had shot this nothing but loyal man earlier that day… And he felt no reason to tell Prussia about the attacks?

"_Nothing_ at all?"

"Nothing, Lovino." There was a rustling noise on the other end of the phone. "I'm probably going to a hospital tomorrow at earliest notice. I'll be lucky if I can ever move my hand right again I'd think." Romano remained silent, not sure of how to react to that, he wanted to tell Canada to do something to Prussia while he was there, but his heart wasn't in it for once. He just wanted to apologize.

"Did you just call me Lovino?"

"Do you mind?" Romano thought for a moment, but then decided that he did not, usually when Spain said it he became angry but Canada… He decided he really didn't mind his _friends_ calling him his name.

"No, not really, I thought it was odd, though." There was an uncustomary awkward silence between the two. On Canada's part because he really didn't want to be talking to Romano right then with Prussia in the house and Lovino because he _had _shot Matthew after all. Probably disabling his hand for awhile… He really didn't know how to go about apologizing considering he'd never considered doing it before in his life. So he wouldn't, he couldn't.

"So, what now?"

"I don't know, Prussia's at your house…"

"He came here thinking I would know something. I can't do anything untoward to him right now."

"Untoward?" The only definition of that word that came to mind was Matthew coming onto Prussia… "What?"

Canada had immediately sensed which direction Lovino's head had gone, really not exactly a bad one, but concerning Prussia… Never in a thousand years. "Not that definition of the word Lovino."

"I thought as much…" Lovino could feel a slow blush working at his face even though the blonde was not there to stare at him stupidly.

"I have to go. I can hear Prussia walking down the hall. I'll talk to you later." He could hear Canada hang up the phone, not even waiting for Lovino's reply. On the one end, the gesture infuriated him beyond belief, but on the other hand… He shot him… Crippled his hand… By the strain in his voice it was clear he was still in pain. He hadn't meant for it to happen like that… He curled his legs up so his knees were in front of his face as he sat in his office chair. Would Canada want to come over any time soon? He found that he had grown rather attached to Matthew since they first started working with one another. He seemed cheerful but down to Earth. He was intelligent and could obviously take a joke. He was competent in nearly everything he did. Why did he get so little credit for what he was? Being forgotten by everyone… He sometimes felt that they were in the same boat.

_Antonio… That asshole… _He missed him so, he would never admit it though, not out loud anyway. How would Antonio react when he heard about him spending so much time with the other nation? Would he get jealous? Or would he like it? Antonio had always been saying that he needed to socialize more, but every time he had Antonio would always get jealous and that was the end of that.

"Why am I even thinking of that selfish bastard? He attacked me just because his boss said so." He then remembered Prussia's accusation in the closet those couple months ago. What he had said about the double standard…? It had been over two years now since the war had initially began between Spain and Italy, it had been over for about four months… Antonio had yet to apologize or even attempt to talk to him. Taking a shaky breath, he decided now that the double standard no longer existed.

-----

Notes:

Putain de merde--Goddammit

Not much else to say but we're getting there! Remember, reviews speed things along ;)

P.S. I'm going to Sugoicon at the end of the month if anyone else is :D


	10. Aftermath X Deceptive

"Mmmng."

"Mnnnn…"

"Ueh?"

"Huh?" The master bedroom was dark and it was cold, oh right, Canada's power had been knocked out last night during the ice storm. He rolled over in bed, facing the wall of warm and inching closer to it. Matthew took a deep breath and sighed contentedly. The wall stiffened as the breath brushed over it.

"Who ist dat?" Prussia growled under his breath. His head was pounding, what did he do last night? Was he out drinking with Ludwig? No, no something about this wasn't right… There was a contented sigh to his right and warm breath sliding across his skin. _Oh shit_. He groaned inside. _Okay, no matter _what_ she looks like, she's still a woman and remember that! No open gawking at her! Goddammit man, one day you're not gonna be able to get your awesome ass out of messes like this. _His body was completely tense as he waited for some sort of reply from whoever was next to him.

"Canada." A sleepy voice next to the albino moaned, wishing to be allowed more sleep.

_Canada?_ "Matthew?!" Gilbert shot up in bed, staring down utterly _horrified_ at the blonde next to him.

"Good morning, Gilbert." Canada calmly and sweetly greeted him, his face appearing rounder than usual without his glasses. Panicking now, Gilbert looked down at himself quickly, no shirt!

"Mmnnn, what's the matter?" Matthew asked, truly confused about Gilbert's strange behavior. Last night had been fun, what was he freaking out about?

Slowly gripping the sheets, afraid of what he might find, Gilbert tossed them off the bed, low and behold! Boxers! Phew…. But wait, what about Canada? _I've done it before… Never say 'nothing happened' until you see clothes on them too._ He turned to look down at Matthew again, he was curled up on the soft mattress, clutching a goose-feather pillow to his chest, sweatpants covering his lower half. He didn't at first seem to notice the bandages wrapping part of Canada's upper half. _Seriously un-awesome situation: AVERTED!_

"_Giiiillbeeerrt_!" Matthew whined as he turned to look up at him. "It's cold, what was that about?" Now that Prussia thought about it, it _was_ rather cold… It didn't hit him until about two seconds later what Canada had only just remembered himself. The power had gone out and with it the heat. It was _still_ out. And, right before they went to bed, they had played a drinking game… Alcohol worked wonders when it came to awkward situations. At least last night the two found out they were still friends. Of course the alcohol consumption explained Gilbert's headache, but it really didn't explain why the two friends were in the same bed and had _not_ had sex.

On the inside, Prussia was actually kind of disappointed, he would never have sex with a guy in his right mind, though trying it had always intrigued him. There was also the fact he usually had no one to do something like that with, he hadn't had sex in… Nearly eight months. If it weren't for humans' willingness his dry spells would be longer, he almost felt bad for the women he'd bedded. He wiped the thought of that from his mind. They were only humans.

Having been far too serious recently… Gilbert felt his lips quirk up at the corners and his lips pull back, revealing his teeth slightly. He _was_ at Matthew's house, time for a little bit of fun.

Matthew blushed as he saw the blurry form of the albino close the space between them and lean over him.

"Vas it goot for you?" The albino purred, his eyes half-lidded as his pale face drew closer. Matthew stuttered in his face, scooting backwards through the cold air.

"W-We didn't do any-anything!"

"Oh?" Gilbert sat back, still staring very intently at Matthew. "I seem to remember it dif'rendly."

"But I have clothes on! You have boxers on!" A sly "kesesesesesese" escaped Gilbert's smirking mouth.

"You know vhat dey say dough?" He shrugged theatrically, referring to what most people said about sex through clothes. Canada blushed ever the harder. "Vant to gife it anoder go?" Gilbert was now nose to nose with the strawberry-blonde again. The Canadian was beet red by now and about to scream when the older placed a teasing kiss on his nose.

"But! But-but-but-but!" He yelled as he backed away and off the bed, landing awkwardly on his back on the floor, his gangly legs still on the bed somehow. Prussia smirked down at him nastily as Matthew cried out in pain, deeply amused by how easy it still was to frazzle the boy. Another "kesesesesesese" came as Canada opened his tearing eyes and looked at the near-naked man propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at him from between his legs.

"Calm down Madd. Only a joke." Gilbert pushed himself up and sat cross-legged as Canada continued to stutter and fight back the pain as he righted himself, it was freezing in this god damned room! Canada suppressed a moan of pain, not wanting to give Gilbert anything else to use. He also was _not_ going to start crying, no matter _how _painful his healing bullet wound was. His hand was complaining too, but it was mostly numb from the cold.

"Well, you don't know that, eh! We were both drinking last night! And-and!"

"Soh you, _vant_ to hev sex vid me?"

"No! Stop it, eh!" Gilbert quirked an eyebrow at the deeply frustrated and red man, noticing the verbal tic Canadian's were said to have. Canada only ever forgot to edit his speech when he was really frustrated or angry. It used to be a sort of game for Gilbert to see how long it took himself to annoy Canada to the point of forgetting.

"Schtop vhat, _eh_?" Gilbert's smirk showed teeth again. He really hadn't thought it possible to get a red as deep as Canada's face without breaking the skin first.

There was more stuttering on Canada's part, both seem to had forgotten the utter lack of heat in the room and were now just content for this embarrassing back and forth to carry on. In truth, Canada had worked hard to deal away with that tic of his. It was embarrassing to be caught saying it after so long and in the presence of _this_ man of all people. He looked away, suppressing the tears of frustration and pain that were trying desperately to break free. Crying in front of Gilbert though wasn't an option. The red-eye would just laugh at him. Despite the fact that they were friends Gilbert always had been and still appeared to be a bully.

Gilbert groaned when he noticed the pain on Canada's face, remembering that his hand was in bad shape… What had caused that shoulder wound though? He regarded the blonde suspiciously as said blonde wiped an eye and grabbed his glasses, Canada sniffled before looking back at him.

"Vhat is vid de wrap?" Gilbert motioned to Matthew's general shoulder area, his need for annoying the boy having been sated.

"I was _shot_ alright? It's not a new thing, understand?" Gilbert half-frowned, he was obviously showing concern here! It was quiet clear though that Matthew was _really_ angry about this, though. Gilbert wouldn't pursue the subject here, at a later date perhaps. But until then… "Eek!"

"Calm down alrighd? I'm only joking, okay?" Canada squirmed nervously against Gilbert's chest, he had grabbed his right arm and pulled him down to a hug. Of course his left hand still hated him and so did his shoulder, even more so from this angle. He sighed against him, he was practically a space heater in this cold-ass room. "Soh!" Gilbert said as he pulled Canada from him to look him in the eye, he was smiling happily. "Vant to make pancakes in your fireplace? I promise nod to ead dem ahll dis time."

It was absurd, Canada thought, that this man could be won over by something as simple as maple syrup and a homemade pancake. He smiled to Gilbert, in some ways his friend was so very predictable.

"Let me get dressed."

---

Christmas was in a week. Feliciano remembered that as he awoke in the now unfamiliar bed. His brother had actually decorated the house for it, which, for Lovino anyway, was an oddity. Usually it was he that had to do all the decorating since his brother was generally a scrooge during the holidays. There was even a small, well-adorned pine tree on the window sill by the bed. The soft snore of his brother next to him reminded him that at least he hadn't slept alone last night, even though it wasn't the man he was now so accustomed to sleeping with. He had to look away from the cute little tree on the sill and hold a hand up to the light, it was so very different waking up to morning sunlight. As compared to waking to a dark room with a warm bed and no one, or Germany yelling and trying to drag him from bed. By how the sun was shining, Feliciano guessed that it was probably about seven o'clock.

Stiffly, he sat up and cracked his back, Romano's bed was small, he was more used to Germany's much larger bed. Italy vaguely wondered how he was, but he really didn't want to leave before his brother awoke, that was just plain rude. He seemed so lonely… Feliciano was not there, Germany was not there, Antonio hadn't apologized yet… Who else did Lovino have?

He slipped out of bed without disturbing his brother, hungry for breakfast. As the brunette walked down the hall, he noticed the cleanliness of the house. Perhaps he moving out was very good for Lovino. The picture frames were straight, floors swept, dust bunnies extinct, it reminded him a little of Ludwig and his home. Except, unlike Ludwig's house, completely neat, clean and sterile, this place looked lived in. The wood floor's shiny varnish worn away and dented in some places, a dent in the wall from where his brother threw him when they got into a fight. He took a deep breath and smiled at the imperfections, living with Germany for two months straight had made him miss the small things such as a dent or a scratch.

The kitchen was in good shape, but well-lived too. There was about two days worth of plates sitting in the sink and flour on the counter, the room still held a little bit of the pasta smell from last night. Really he hadn't realized how much he missed his home and all its many small nuances. He walked to the fridge and opened it… Rather surprised to find something other than Italian food was in it, he couldn't really pinpoint the variety of the invading culture though. It could have been American food, but he saw no hamburgers or soda pops so it couldn't have been Alfred's.

Whose house had he been at yesterday? The thought struck him, he thought for a few moments, he remembered the gunfire and yelling and snow… But not the nation whose house he had been at. He shrugged it off. His brother had saved him and shot whomever it was. That's all that mattered. He pulled out a bowl with plastic wrap over it, whatever it was, it looked good. He pulled the wrap back to smell it. It smelled sort of bland but he pulled out a fork and ate it anyway and he ate it cold. It certainly tasted familiar, the brown sauce and white chunks in it reminded him of the cold for some reason, maybe it was just that he was eating it cold that it did… He picked up a fry on the end of the fork and ate it, the taste was _very_ familiar…

"America…" America had abducted him, he remembered his captor being blonde and wearing glasses… The man had tied him to a chair in his garage and left him in the cold. He fed him and then Romano came and rescued him. Just thinking about the dark, cold space made him shiver. It was going to take him a long time to forgive America.

Feliciano finished the French fries in the brown sauce with cheese curds and stuck the bowl and fork in the sink. Was Germany worried about him? He had been kidnapped and all, granted only for a few hours since America had been sloppy about it. How had Romano known…? Well, America _was_ his ally… But that didn't mean Romano had been involved in any way! After all, one did not shoot your own ally.

Feliciano looked to the phone sitting on the kitchen counter. He somehow or another remembered the hospital's number and Ludwig's room too. He smiled gleefully, he could tell Ludwig he was alright! The phone was in his hand in seconds and fingers dialing.

A receptionist picked up and Feliciano explained to her that he wanted to talk to Ludwig Beilschimidt in room 323. After that, he was transferred to someone on the third floor of the hospital. And then to Ludwig's attending nurse. She explained that Ludwig was asleep and was not to be disturbed. Something about that didn't seem quite right to Feliciano, but if Ludwig was asleep it was always better not to bother him. He didn't want to get the nurse in trouble, the blonde was scary when he first woke up sometimes.

"Schoult I take a message for you?"

"It's fine! I'll call back later okay?"

"Alrighd sir." And the nurse hung up on him. The Italian almost called her rude, but she was only doing her job. He plopped the receiver back down onto the base

"Feliciano! Are you still here?!" Lovino called to his brother from the bedroom.

"Uh-huh! I'm in the kitchen!" Other than the events of the last few days and not getting to talk to Ludwig, this was an overall wonderful morning. Removed from the pain, the cold and the reminders, it was so easy to forget the bad things. It was easy to forget Ludwig in his hospital bed, America's bullet wounds and Romano's too… Just as his brother walked into the kitchen, baring all his scars from the war on his chest, ribs and abdomen… It occurred to Italy that those in contact with him always got hurt… Or just completely disappeared… Like Holy Romano Empire. Like every human girl he had ever tried to date… They disappeared. During the war, so many people he'd grown to love had died… All defending him…

Tears sat at the edges of his eyes as he looked back on the war. So many people dead, many he had known personally at least if not friends, he fought along side them, ate with them, enjoyed free times… He had cried for them then and was going to cry for them now.

"What's your problem?" Romano asked as he walked over to him. Feliciano's tears kept falling from his eyes, unaccompanied by any sounds or sobs. He wasn't staring at Romano, he didn't _see_ Romano. He saw the faces of the dead and dying, he could swear every scar over his body burned as he remembered.

As easy as it had been mere minutes ago to forget the bad things when things were good, when he started living with Germany he had forced himself not to think about it. Germany was odd now-a-days about crying, he would try to wipe the tears away rather than just let him cry, he worried about Italy. And as Germany had kept secrets from him to keep him from worrying about _his_ well-being, Italy had pushed back memories of the war.

He gasped and looked sick as one face among the thousands dead that stuck out at him. He soon found himself assaulted by an entire memory he had done his best to forget.

"Oi! Feliciano. Have your brains gone from mush to water or something?" Romano waved his hand back and forth in front of his brother's face. Veneziano did nothing though, he just kept staring at nothing with that same eerie face. "Uegh, looks like it." Romano went around Italy searching for something in the lower cabinets.

_Italy shook as he slowly and apprehensively advanced through the forest. He really was not all that sure where he was supposed to be going. He was hungry, thirsty, sweaty and tired. His canteen had gone missing quite sometime ago, a ricochet bullet had found its sticking point in the metal container._

"_Feliciano!" A woman screamed form somewhere far off in the woods. The war had progressed out of the cities and towns. The acrid scent of death, blood and just… _War_ filled the air in this hot Italian summer._

"_Caterina!?" Feliciano called back into the woods. Really, the both of them were soldiers and yelling for one another in the middle of a battle field, it was a stupid thing to do. The sound of gunfire resounded all around him and he had just given away his position. He dashed for cover behind a large tree. The gun Germany had given him, his favorite semi-automatic, shook in his terrified hands. Somewhere out in the woods were his friends. Many on his side, but France and Spain, looking to conquer him. The others, Germany, Romano and England helping to make sure the previous did not happen. One however, did not wish to fight, not against the one that he loved so well, he had no choice though, he too was under attack._

_A gun barrel poked around the trunk of the tree and Feliciano froze. He was too afraid to even shake. The barrel poked the side of his arm before it jerked away in a motion to reveal himself. With the gun trained on him, he stepped out from behind the tree, still clutching his friend's favorite gun. A woman stared down the barrel at him, green eyes suddenly lighting up with recognition as a smile broke across Italy's face._

"_Feliciano." She sighed gratefully and lowered her gun as Italy let his dangle at his side. They both came together, throwing an arm over each other embracing one another tightly. The two shared a chaste kiss before quickly pulling away and standing at the ready. "How're you faring out here?" Caterina asked as she examined the surrounding area for danger._

"_Alright… I don't like this… But it's better with you here now." His smile widened. Caterina was adopted into an Italian family Feliciano knew quite well, he had watched her grow up. Her true nationality though was German. In her he recognized some of the things he loved in Germany. She was determined and strong, she had an odd sense of humor too. Some things he liked that were different though was that she didn't have Germany's penchant for yelling and she wasn't a total neat-freak like he was. There were physical similarities too… She was taller than he was, but most people were and she sported the classic blonde hair, it looked slicked back when she pulled it into a ponytail. Something out of the ordinary though were her eyes, those beautiful green gemstones. He loved this girl so much, not romantically, not yet, but he knew he was getting there, he _would _get there if their service with one another continued..._

_Caterina smiled back at him and quickly replaced it with a stern look that reminded Feliciano of Germany. "We're falling back and regrouping with the German army. There are others looking for you. Not all of them are from our allies either." Feliciano nodded, he needed to get out of there fast. He took her hand and started to head to the location of their last encampment. At least his sense of direction hadn't been screwed up in all this craziness._

_That was when they heard it. The low blast and the whistle. It quickly changed from him tugging Caterina, to her pulling him along through the growth as she raced for cover. He nearly tripped three times in the short dash to hide behind a large tree. There was an explosion as Caterina rounded the tree, yanking Italy around with her and clutching him to her. Each was being careful with the guns as they waited for the splintered trees to stop flying and the air to clear._

"_Someone knows we're here. We have to move faster." Each gripped their guns close and dashed from their hiding place, it wouldn't be long before another mortar was fired. Feliciano quickly overtook Caterina as they retreated, meanwhile, in the forest they each heard another low thud and a short whistle. "Feliciano! Stop!" The sound was in front of them._

_The Italian whipped around in time to see as Caterina grabbed his arm and jerked him back behind her. The mortar was about to collide with tree, the explosion was going to cause massive splinters to fly every which way. Before the thinking mind could even begin to react, the reptile part of preservation kicked in. Caterina turned and body-slammed Italy to the floor of the forest, her body serving as a veritable bullseye for the many flying pieces._

_A piercingly agonizing pain lit up an inch away from Italy's groin in the soft spongy area of his hip. He cried out as other spots on his body became alive with sensations he would rather not have felt ever._

"_A-Are you alright?" Italy noticed the hitch in her breathing. He opened his eyes, not sure of when he had closed them. Blood dripped from her mouth and her eyes held intense and unexpressed pain. He wanted to cry, but not because of his own pain it was because of what his pain meant. Caterina's body was completely covering the area he had been staked._

"_Y-yes." Tears were now falling and a choked sob rose unbidden from his throat. "Y-you?" He really didn't want an answer, but maybe if he asked she'd think he was only crying because of his own pain._

"_I've been b-better." She was crying too, blood rising in her throat. She turned suddenly from him as violent coughs racked her body, causing crimson to come out in great sprays into her hand. She was worse than Italy had thought. She piteously looked to the man as her breaths came shakier and shakier. "F-Feliciano, I-I love you." Feliciano's sobs grew almost to screams as she became limp atop him. He cried for his lost friend, he cried for the death of someone who had to defend him, but he also cried because he could not answer her back the way she wanted. His voice rose further to a shrill wailing as the pain from his injuries kicked in ten fold. Whoever it was that had fired the mortar did not heed his cries and end his misery._

_Where were the soldiers they had been retreating from earlier!? It was unfair that when all was well they were there and when he felt like fading away no one could hear him._

"_Italy!" A strong, deep voice called beyond his pain and the darkening day. His throat had gone raw and nearly bloody long ago while the sun was still high. Why wasn't he dead yet? The thumping of heavy boots laden with clinking gear came close. His voice was only just small whimpers and sobs, how had this person heard him when he was quiet while others abandoned him when he screamed? Even though he still sobbed, tears had stopped coming. Something large and warm fell to the ground behind him and to his left._

"_Germany?" He hoarsely croaked. A warm glove touched his cheek as the saddened but greatly relieved visage of the man he _did_ love came into his view._

"_Yes, it's me don'd talk." He watched as the blonde turned his view to the body that pinned Italy down. He almost told Germany to stop, knowing what he was thinking, but it was a step towards this pain ending. He felt it the moment Germany put his hand on the impaling splinter, it moved within him. Then, in one motion, the German tore the splinter from Italy and through the corpse of the woman. Feliciano couldn't help but scream through his raw throat as the splinter was ripped from his hip, carrying with it his skin and other things. It had not gone very far in, but it hurt so bad. What was worse was the splinter had kept the blood in his hip where it belonged, it was now beginning to spill out into his trousers._

"Rimetterlo_!_ Rimetterlo_!" He screamed and struggled weakly underneath the dead body. Not complying to the incomprehensible order, Germany threw the dead woman off him._

"_Medic!" Within seconds there was a whole mess of people around Italy all trying to close up the potentially life-threatening wound. He was unaware of some things they were doing to him, he stayed focused on Germany. The beautiful blonde worked hard and frantically to assist the doctors in whatever way he could, yelling something at Italy occasionally he could not understand. One doctor stuck something into his arm and yelled harshly at him in his homeland's speech, Italy couldn't understand him either._

"_Germany, I-I-" He was going to tell him before he died, he had to. The blood-spattered man leaned in close, worry evident on his face. "I lo-lo-" Nothing was working anymore, Germany's alarmed look surely meant that he understood what Italy had tried to say, right? The gracious face turned from him and yelled at someone, everyone was yelling and working as fast as they could already though. He didn't hear the German speech anymore, everything was slurred and undefined, his vision was too, he finally faded into darkness._

Italy jerked as the memory ended and quickly whipped around and vomited into the kitchen sink. Romano had a pan he had found raised above his head, ready to hit Italy. He lowered it and took a few steps back, covering his mouth.

"What the hell did you eat? That's disgusting." Romano said, thoroughly sickened with his brother's behavior.

Italy didn't hear him, his ears were still ringing and his stomach convulsing. He almost curled in on himself and would have if the counter was not in front of him.

"I need to see Ludwig." He whimpered as his stomach began to act up again. "I have to tell him." Italy took deep breaths to calm himself, his body wasn't having that. He was seized once more by a painful coughing fit as his stomach tried to empty again. It brought back the memory of Caterina as she lay dead on his chest, blood dripping from her mouth and open eyes staring at him in the cold of death. The smells and the uncomfortable heat, the pain in his groin… Both he and his body knew he was empty at this point, but the body pushed for more as if it wouldn't be happy until the very stomach itself was in the sink.

"Tell him he married a fag like you?" Romano growled, unconcerned for his brother's current condition. "What's better? Be friends and stay with him or tell him how you feel and have him wish he never met you?"

"But-" Italy screamed as a long slash drew itself down his back, the crimson brightly contrasting with his pale skin. Already weak from the exertion his stomach had imposed upon him and the memory he crumpled to the floor, curling up and crying as blood rolled off him to the floor.

Romano dashed from the room to grab something to staunch the bleeding, returning with gauze and a styptic. Dropping to his knees, he slathered the paste over his brother's new-found wound. The styptic did its job and cut the bleeding down greatly, but this would need stitches. He gritted his teeth, he was not letting his brother go to some doctor, not when _anyone_ could visit him during his recovery. He was his older brother, and a nation, he had the right to make these decisions, screw that he had a spouse.

"Did this ever happen before you married that potato freak Veneziano?" Feliciano did not answer him.

"This is all Germany's fault."

"Don't say that. Please." Romano felt his brother's pleading whines pathetic. Did he still _want_ to save his brother from that terrible man he was married to? He was his brother and family never abandoned family when in need.

"It's true though, this has never happened. At least before we didn't suffer this much in one week when outside of war."

"We?" Italy weakly questioned.

"I'm your brother. Your pain is my pain." Italy hiccupped and moved to embrace his brother's hip.

"Lovino." He rubbed his face against the top of his brother's bare thigh. He sniffled and Romano ran his fingers through Italy's hair, getting the leftover styptic on his fingers in it.

"Let's go back to the way things used to be after this. Okay? You and me living together as a united nation. I can guarantee all this will stop if you do."

"How?"

"Trust me Feliciano, I know these things."

"W-What about Ludwig?" He shuttered as another wave of pain racked his frame.

"It will stop with him too."

"Really?"

"Yes." Romano didn't know whether or not he could keep that part of the bargain, but he would say that for now and let the chips fall where they may in the future.

"H-How do I divorce him?" Romano reached up and picked up the phone from on top of the counter. He had to call a doctor and get them down here to treat the back wound.

"In a moment."

---

Germany ruffled his oily and unkempt hair, Italy's part of the country had been attacked. Gilbert hadn't returned last night so he knew nothing of what was going on. He had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach something terrible had happened but he didn't know what. Something more terrible than the attack on Italy or him. He desperately wished he could get up and leave, look for Feliciano, find out where Gilbert had gone, but he wasn't going to be discharged until three. He was a nation and no one would stop him if he tried to get an early discharge, but rules were in place for a reason.

There was a sudden but quiet knock to the door of his room.

"_Herein._" Germany groaned, thinking it was another nurse or doctor come to check up on him. Instead, he was surprised when his otaku-boy friend Japan poked his head through the now ajar door.

"_Doisu-san, ohayo gozaimasu._"

"Goot morning to you too Japan." Germany had long grown used to Japan's greetings and had learned some Japanese along the way. He still had yet to decipher much of Italian though. "Come in, hev a sead." Japan quietly nodded his head and walked in, closing the door behind him. Germany sat up straighter in a show that he was better than he had been the two nights previous. He certainly hoped not everyone had already heard about Italy's disappearance.

Japan looked around the room quietly, he didn't say anything, but that was Japan.

"How hev you been?" Japan nodded, regarding the question as if he wouldn't answer it.

"I have been arright. I was never rearry part of the war so I had nothing to recover from." Germany nodded and twiddled his fingers for a moment after Japan's reply. "I shourd be asking you though, 'how have you been'?"

"Alrighd, alrighd… Vell, nod compledely obfiously. Bud, bedder den I daughd I voult efter dat…" There was silence between the two again. Japan seemed to be staring blankly at nothing, Germany still wished to God that he could know what the man was thinking.

"I am srightry confused. I was expecting _Itaria-kun_ to be here too." Germany frowned and looked away from Japan.

"He ist… Euh… Missing. Only vay to schay it." That _definitely_ got Japan's attention as his expression went from blank to mild irritation.

"He has been kidnapped?"

"Yes. Und, I don'd know vhat to do. Gilbert lefd lasd nighd to talk to somevon. I can'd remember who, bud he's nod back yed…" Japan's frown grew deeper as he crossed his legs, he really meant business now.

"You forgot who he went to see? That's not rike you _Doisu-san_. I wirr herp you search when you have furry recovered. Do you wish me to start _now_, however?" Japan offered.

"I voult be gradeful." Germany groaned and ruffled his hair again, remarking internally how nasty it felt after not having the gel completely washed from it, or washed at all. Japan stood up straight and bowed to his friend.

"I wirr start now. Do you wish this to remain a secret though?"

"I voult. It voult be bat nuvs for me if de terrorisds fount oud aboud Italy being missing." Japan nodded and turned to leave the room.

"I wish your recovery to be swift _Doisu-san_. I wirr report back at the earryest convenience."

"_Danke schön. _I avaid your wort." With that, the Japanese man left. Once again Ludwig was alone with his worry and anxious muscles. If it was Romano that had caused all this shit he was going to do to him what Americans did to veal if it was the last thing he would ever do. His right hand clenched into a fist as his left rubbed it as if trying to calm it down. It would get its shot at the bastard.

---

"Vhy ist it soh fucking colt hier!?" Gilbert roared at the fire in front of him that Canada was making a pancake over. Canada sighed and flipped the pancake.

"I'm near the top of the world, sorry." The albino's teeth were chattering in the background as Canada flipped the finished pancake onto a plate for Prussia. He pelted the stack of five with nearly a pint of syrup before handing the warm plate of food to the man who was wearing a coat over his uniform and over that a blanket.

"It's nod your fauld, it jus' sucks." Prussia sliced into the pancakes with the fork Matthew handed him and took a big bite. "I neet to schtard visiding again. I'fe misst your awesome pancakes und syrup." Canada smiled happily and poured more batter into the now newly-greased pan. There was a tug to the back of Canada's coat skirt that was close to the ground. He looked over his shoulder down at his little white fuzz ball.

"Yes?"

"Pancakes?" Canada chuckled when he saw Gilbird (he still thought Gilbert very narcissistic for naming his pet after himself) sitting atop the bear's fuzzy head.

"Yes, I'll make you some. Sit your bum down." Gilbert looked away from his pancakes for a few seconds to take in the sight of the bird and the bear.

"Traidor" He grumbled with a smile and took another bite. "Canada, how long am I going to be hier?" Matthew thought for a moment about the ice storm. He didn't have the heart to tell Gilbert that while he was getting dressed they said on the radio that it had been the worst storm in awhile. Canada lived out in the woods away from most people, screw the capital. He had a house there, but this was his preferred one. He only in this situation, however, wished he was at the capital. He and Prussia were stuck here for the better part of the week otherwise.

Matthew sighed before answering Gilbert, this man was Germany's _big_ _brother_ after all, he had cause to be afraid of him if he should become angry. Canada usually thought it preposterous to be afraid of the man but... It wouldn't necessarily matter if they were friends if Gilbert _did _become angry, the man was nearly an unstoppable force of nature when that happened. "We are going to be here for about three days I think. Maybe longer." Matthew said in an offhanded way, hoping if he made it sound casual his friend would react better. Prussia almost dropped his plate, but that would've been a waste of good pancakes and syrup.

"Vhat?!" He yelled, the fork poised as if to stab Canada should what he say be unfavorable. Too bad for Canada the truth wasn't. It was the combination of many things really that caused Gilbert to reach the state he was in now… The three days stuck in this cold-ass place just was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"I-It's the worst ice-storm there has been in quite some time Gilbert! Please understand!" Matthew jumped to his feet and backpedaled away from his friend. The wounds in his left side were angry again. "I can't do anything about the weather!"

"_Drei!? Drei Tage?!"_

"I'm sorry!"

"_Deine Mutter!_" Canada bolted away as Prussia took one more bite of the pancakes and calmly sat them down. He took a deep breath before raising the fork again and giving chase through the house. "_Komm sofort her schwachsinniger Idiot!_"

Unimpressed, Kumajiro stood and skittered over to the stack of pancakes, nibbling on them. He completely ignored the screams and other noises in the background as Prussia took swipes at his master.

The chase didn't last long as Prussia had soon cornered the boy and had him pressed against the wall using his superior size. This did not necessarily mean he was taller, he just had more bulk packed onto his frame.

"Please Gilbert! Put the fork down! I swear I didn't know!" The fork was dangerously close to his vital regions that Gilbert was so well known for saying he was going to crush or invade. _Crush with his five metres…_ He reminded himself the rest of the way. He cringed back against the wall, almost attempting to become one with it as a lusty glint found its way into Gilbert's bloody eyes. "You visited me! It's your own fault!"

"Vhat dit you schay!" The man's accent was even thicker, he really wasn't in the mood to hear about what was his fault. "I schoult invate your vidal regions for schaying dat!"

This was _very_ quickly becoming scarier and scarier as Canada had a glimpse of the man Prussia used to be long ago. Long before his kingdom fell. Even longer before they were friends... He felt the fork in Prussia's hand embed into the wall, ripping the crotch of Matthew's pants disconcertingly. He was shaking, seriously afraid that the former knight really was going to fucking _rape _him!

The invading hand moved from the handle of the fork to Matthew's belt, the mad glint still blazing within the man's gleaming rubies. A demented smile spread over Gilbert's… Prussia's face as an idea seemed to truly dawn upon him.

Matthew had an idea that this was not going to be an idea he liked.

-----

Notes:

Rimetterlo--Put it back!

Herein--Come in

Doisu-san, ohayo gozaimasu--Germany, good morning.

Itaria-kun--Italy

Drei?! Drei Tage-- Three?! Three days!?

Diene Mutter--Your mother!

Komm sofort her schwachsinniger Idiot--Come here now simple minded Idiot!

Okay, once again a serious chapter with comic relief here and there, I really hadn't meant for this story to be so emotional, buuuut, hey lol apparently that's just what happens with me. I had fun writing this chapter, the back and forth between Canada and Gilbert was my favorite thing to write just because, lol, Gilbert has been acting _waaaay _too mature for himself in the recent chapters. I want the funny asshole part of him to show XD.

Special note: Chapter 9 has been edited for continuity, it's at least 200 words longer than before XD.

Evil Gil is sexay and you know it!

COMMENT TO FIND OUT CANADA'S FATE!

_Edit_

Accents, incontinuities and grammar fixed.


	11. Aftermath XI Fragile

Okay, I feel the need to mention this as it always seems to be Romano to say the things I don't really want to type. I of course in no way agree with the negative comments he makes about the countries and their respective people. I'm just saying that now to avoid possibly offending anyone.

---

Matthew trembled under the hands of the Teutonic knight as a far more menacing "kesesesesesese" snaked from his lips. He was speaking lowly to himself in a language Canada did not recognize, it sounded like German, but much older. Canada squeaked as he heard the clinking of his belt and felt his pants grow loose.

His muscles tensed as he readied himself for assault. This man was supposed to be his best friend for Christ's sake! And here he was… About to sexually molest him if not full out _rape_ him! For getting him stuck in his house for only three days! Three days with your best friend was a bad thing?! _Goddammit!_

It was the sudden twitch of Gilbert's lips and a spewing, raucous laugh that told Canada… The man really wasn't so angry after all.

The albino was gasping for air and pounding his fist against the wall as he laughed in the Canadian's face. Gilbert backed up and pointed wildly as he started to taunt. "I cahn'd beliefe you daughd I voult! I-I" Prussia couldn't finish his sentence as another fit of laughter overtook him. He was doubled up, clutching his stomach in front of Canada. "I cahn'd! Gott Matthew! You're soh gullible!" The blonde was glaring at Gilbert, his face beet red, half in embarrassment and the other half, unadulterated anger.

_Uh-oh…_ Gilbert stood up straighter now, still sniggering, making his signature "kesesesesese" noise, his gut sore from his vigorous laughter.

"A joke!? This was a goddamn joke, eh?!" The considerably smaller man whacked his friend over the head with the blunt end a hockey stick he pulled from his coat sleeve.

"Ow! Dat really hurd!" Gilbert yelled as he backed up holding his head.

"You're such a jerk Gilbert! I seriously thought you were gonna rape me, eh!" He hit him again, this time in the gut, baseball style.

"Oof! Schtop dat! I'm sorry alrighd?!"

"I bet you're sorry! I should take you to a goddamn hockey game and throw you in the middle during a slap-shot!" The stick came down again, this time whacking the albino straight in the hip.

"_Hurensohn! Das tut weh!_ Vhat to you to ahll de gotdamn tay!? Pracdice hockey vid dat ding?!_" _He slurred at Matthew above him as the man raised the slightly-warped stick above his head to hit the jokester again.

"Not quite." He brought it down only to have it snagged in Gilbert's gloved hand. The man had had enough of this useless beating and teasing of one another. Also, since when did Canada have the skills to defeat the awesomeness that was Prussia!? With a hockey stick?!

_You knew he did a few years ago, stop asking yourself such stupid questions._ Ah, his traitorous inner monologue, many times in a day Prussia cursed its utter truthfulness.

"Gif me dat!" He yanked the weapon away from the younger man and jerkily got to his feet, rubbing his head. He grunted as his fingers probed over the exact spot Canada had hit him. He frowned and sighed, defeated as he noticed the blood on his black gloves. "My choice of joke vas… Ill-advist, okay? I know how touchy you ahre aboud dings like dat, bud I vas only messing arount. Like I vas dis morning. Like I hev been since bevore ve vere fruends." Canada was glaring at him still, his emotions reading intense anger, pain and embarrassment. Prussia sighed and dropped the stick to the floor. "I schall revrain from ahll pracdical jokes for de resd of my schtay. You hear?"

"I knew I should've thrown you out in the blizzard last night." Matthew insisted stubbornly.

"I am hurd Madd. Vhat happent to you in my exdentet apsence?" Gilbert really was curious, he would never have admitted it out loud, but Canada _was_ his best friend, one of his only friends. He had sincerely _hoped_ that he still was… "Jus' cool ovf Matthew."

"Shut up. You didn't just fear for… For…" A smirk returned to Prussia's face. He could only fight his true nature for so long, even when he was trying to be serious.

"Your firginidy?" It widened to a mocking grin.

"No! I'm not a virgin and you know it!"

"Hm, unt ahll dis time I assumet it to be a solit ding to svear upon…"

"What?!"

"Vell, you know how mosd people say 'I svear to Gott'? I say 'I svear upon Canada's firginidy'." The somewhat subsided red of Matthew's complexion came back full force.

"_Giiiil!!_" Canada whined for him to stop.

"_Maaaadd!_" Prussia whined back in a sing-songy way. "If you aren't a firgin, den proof it!"

"How the Hell am I supposed to do that?! None of the other nations remember who I am and you… You _know_ what happens to humans-"

"Vaid, vaid, vaid!" Gilbert waved his hand back and forth. "You'fe done oder nations?!"

"No. Just humans."

"Vell, nexd time be more specivic. De vay you sait it mate me dink dat you hef… If you coult, dough, who voult you?" Gilbert quirked his eyebrows, smirking suggestively at his friend.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer Gil. I need new pants." Matthew sighed and turned to head upstairs. He would have to repair the rip in the crotch later, after his hand was healthy again. _A fork Gil?! Seriously?!_

"_Ja_, I know my fife meders is impressife. You jus-" Matthew tuned him out as he walked up the stairs, glancing back to see Gilbert making a show of examining and cleaning his gloved fingernails. Inadvertently rubbing some of the blood off them and onto his spare clothes that had been laying around.

Canada rolled his eyes. Prussia was a great friend of his, really he was. When it suited him. The man was immature, loved practical jokes and was perverted beyond redemption, but he knew Prussia cared. It was Prussia that had convinced him to remain neutral in the war. A choice that saved him a lot of pain. That had been the last time they'd spoken though. After that they hadn't seen one another until just yesterday.

_Over two years…_ Matthew reflected. Most people didn't know how friendly the two nations were. Even Alfred didn't know about their friendship. Though, after the war ended and Prussia said nothing to him for months and nearly ignored him that time after in the world meeting building… He had been convinced that Prussia had forgotten about him too. Really, he hadn't been too offended. Arthur and Francis, his very own parents, forgot who he was if they didn't see each other for longer than two days.

Gilbert had been his best friend and he was happy to see that he still _was_. It just pained him to think that they were now on opposite sides of things. He knew if Prussia found out that _he_ had kidnapped Italy… Their friendship was over. He pushed back tears as he pulled on a pair of pants in his room. He hated keeping secrets from Gilbert, but he wanted even less for _Prussia_ to be his enemy.

For that second, and that second alone, hate for the Italian man so far away burned in his gut. He hated Lovino and this whole stupid thing! But as the second passed and the next took its place, he realized he couldn't hate him. It was impossible to hate the man that made his heart do such strange things like it did. Thinking of Lovino brought heat to his skin and bones in this cold place. The prospect of seeing him made the grown Canadian giddy. He knew what was wrong with him was what made it all the better. He wasn't going to delude himself any longer as some others might about this feeling.

"Matthew! De pan ist on fire!" He heard Gilbert yell from down in the fireplace room. A smile lit up his lips and he chuckled. Zipping up his fly, he left the room to quell his partially panicking friend. With a happy smile still painted on his lips, Canada grabbed the pan with the flaming cake in it and smothered it with a heavy rag he kept by the fireplace. Prussia blinked at the blissful smile on Matthew's face, wondering what could've put such a cute and carefree look on it. It certainly was a very drastic change from the face he had when he ascended the stairs. "Vhat hes you soh happy?"

"Nothing." Canada turned his smile to Gilbert for a moment and cleaned the pan. "The pan is alright. Want more pancakes?" This elicited a grand smile from Gilbert and a giddy glint in his eyes.

"Alvays room for more of your pancakes." A warm feeling was blossoming within Matthew's breast. It was nice to feel loved, even if it was Gilbert giving the compliment. He wondered if this was how Lovino was going to feel when Matthew told him he loved him.

---

Meanwhile, a long ways away in Italy, the news did not bode well for Romano that evening. The northern Italians were angry at their government's decision to split from Germany. Feliciano had already filled out the paperwork through eyes clouded with pain. He was asleep again down the hall. The doctor Romano had called was in the room with him too.

Here he was, doing his damn brother _and_ his people a favor and all they did was mope and get pissed. The Germans didn't approve either. There were talks going on that evening between nations, Germany was trying to convince Italy to reconsider. This simple fact only made Romano all the angrier. Such a fucking idiotic country! The Italians didn't need their help! Why couldn't they see that?! Romano smirked though, Germany was in the hospital and Veneziano was here. If he could keep _those _two from talking this whole divorce might go over well. As long as Feliciano slept, he couldn't refuse to the divorce. Things were going his way. Too bad the man he wanted to thank most was snowed in at his house.

_With Prussia_… He sneered internally and sincerely hoped the apology over the phone had been enough to keep his friend's faith in him. He was so going to make Canada a big pasta dinner the next time he saw him. Rarely did he feel so inclined as to express gratitude, Canada had better well be grateful. At the same time, he felt sorry for Canada, well, for more reasons than just that his left hand probably wasn't going to work correctly for awhile. Mostly he felt sorry because he was going to be stuck with that overconfident son-of-a-bitch Prussia for a few days. He shuddered to think of poor, timid Canada stuck with _that_ for a week. Romano decided that he would make a special Canadian pizza just for enduring that along with the promised pasta dinner.

There was a knock to the front door… Romano really hadn't counted on visitors that night and America and England usually just called him over the phone now… The knocks came again, this time… They seemed to have a tune… _La Cucaracha_?

_Oh, fuck no._ Romano stood from his couch and stormed to the front door. Pulling a gun from his back pocket as he did. No fucking way was he letting _this_ motherfucker into his house. If he expected a warm welcome he sure as Hell wasn't getting one.

Romano threw the door open, his gun making a clicking sound. What he saw, he didn't really expect. Sure, yes, it was _who_ he thought it would be… Just what he was doing was unexpected.

Antonio was down on one knee, a hand holding a bouquet of red and purple roses. A basket of rich, round tomatoes at his knee. Lovino shook out of his momentary stupor and poked the top of Antonio's head with the nose of his handgun.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He asked angrily, slightly nervous now too.

"Following up my apology, dear Lovi." The Spaniard looked up from the ground and smiled sweetly at Lovino, almost as if he didn't seem the gun in his sweet's hand. Romano had the impulse to pistol-whip his head for completely ignoring the threat. He resisted because of the way Antonio had explained his presence.

"Following up?" He snorted. "You never even started to apologize you fucktard. Not that I care." Now Antonio was the one who was confused.

"Yes I did. I came here a week ago and left you a letter." He explained as he shook the flowers playfully at the other.

"That was you?! _You_ broke into my house?!" Lovino whipped the flowers away from his face with the barrel of the handgun.

"No, I used the key you gave me, silly." It was stated so simply, so as a matter-of-factly that Romano couldn't help but be a little embarrassed about it. How had he forgotten about that?

"_I love you Lovino."_

"_Yeah, yeah, whatever."_

"_A key?! For me?! Is it to your heart?"_

"_No dumbass, it's a house key. For my house."_

"_Even better!"_

A blush worked its way up Romano's neck, he dared not reflect more, the scene afterwards would've broken his resolve.

"Hand it over." Romano held out his hand to Spain.

"Hand over what? My heart?" Romano jammed the barrel into Antonio's head, the Spaniard made no noise.

"No you imbecile, the key!"

"Why?" The brunette asked with a hint of despair in his voice.

"Because! Because I hate you!" _I still love you._

"You're lying to me Lovino. Is it just because there is… Is there someone else?" Antonio asked, beginning to empathize with Romano and at the same time becoming jealous, his heart beginning to break.

"Yes." _Never._

"Oh… This is kind of awkward then…" Spain could've swore he heard glass break as pain flowered in his chest.

"Ya' fuckin' think?" _Don't leave… _Antonio stood, pushing the gun from his head. _Please don't._

"You can keep the tomatoes…" He looked down to the bouquet in his hand, Romano too. "But I guess I don't know what to do with these though." The flush from earlier deepened and worked up to his cheeks as the two stood in awkward silence. He snatched the bouquet away from Spain.

"I'll get rid of it for you then!" He grumbled and put his hand out again after putting the gun back into his back pocket. "My fucking key please." Antonio's frown deepened as he looked at Romano's insistent hand, why did he demand on taking away the only material present he had ever given him?

"Can I keep it? I won't use it again, I promise." God damn it, those eyes! Those deep green, puppy-fucking-dog eyes! Lovino gritted his teeth against Spain's assault and held firm.

"No! Give me my damn key!" Romano emphatically thrust his hand out again, nearly jabbing Spain's chest. Spain looked away from the Italian as he reached into his pocket. The key was attached to a tomato-shaped key ring, engraved on the back of which was "Lovi". Romano yanked the key from the now morbidly empty hand and threw it in his back pocket.

"Now-"

"Please, would at least tell me who it is I have lost you to?" The saddened man implored.

_You haven't…_

"It wouldn't hurt, I guess. It's Canada."

"Who?" Romano blinked, oh, that's right, no one ever remembered who he was.

"Canada, you know. Blonde guy in North America? Right above the United States?"

"Uhm… No…"

"Gah! Come here!" He grabbed Antonio's wrist and dragged him into the house. Romano went to the kitchen and pulled out a map from under the wobbly leg of the kitchen table. He laid the bouquet on the wobbly table and unfolded the map. Antonio examined the world map with interest, his eyes first going to the boot-shaped country in Europe.

"Right there!" Romano poked the large landmass above America.

"Oh…"

"Now please leave."

"I hope he makes you happy." As he turned to leave, Romano yanked him down by his hair and planted a kiss on the Spaniard's lips. The two came up for air and Antonio eyed him, deeply confused.

"Now piss off!" Lovino shoved him away from him and out the kitchen, continuing to the door. Antonio touched his lips, it was one of seven kisses Romano had ever initiated. He nearly cried as he exited the house and realized that it was most likely the last.

Romano slammed the door and slumped against it. Why? Why did Antonio _have_ to pick tonight of all nights to apologize? What was even worse though was he didn't know why he just pushed Antonio away. He accepted that his own personality made him wary of men… But Spain had practically been his brother growing up and he _had_ admitted before that he loved him…Despite swearing that Spain didn't matter to him anymore, he still did matter. He still loved him.

It was embarrassing too that he had told him that the person who replaced him was Canada. He hoped to apologize to him as soon as he could, even if Canada was never troubled by it. He wanted to call Canada and talk to him about what he should do. Under normal circumstances he would never even admit he was in trouble, but this was different. He still loved Antonio, he wanted him back and now he had just screwed everything up because he still wasn't ready to forgive him for the war. Canada usually had some idea of what to do, he was a person to turn to. Though there was still the problem that Canada was still housing Prussia and the phone lines were most likely down over there.

He jumped as there was a sudden beep from down the hall in the monitor closet… Most likely it was Austria come to feed and walk Germany's dogs again, but considering how long Germany had had been in the hospital… He had returned home. Romano jumped up, his current problems forgotten and replaced by new ones. Dashing down the hall he checked to make sure Feliciano was still asleep. The doctor looked up curiously but said nothing after Romano left the room and continued down the hall.

Once inside the spacious closet he locked the door behind himself and plugged a headset into the volume control.

There were two voices and two sets of footsteps. Germany had company with him, but who?

---

"_Ich habe ein schlechtes Gefühl._" Germany informed Roderich as the walked into the house, his arm in a sling. The house didn't feel right, especially after what Roderich had handed him while they were in the car.

"_Wobei_?" The Austrian replied, giving him a sidelong look. He slightly wondered why Ludwig was speaking to him in German, but it was their national language.

"_I'm sure someone has bugged my home._" Germany continued on in German.

"_You're just paranoid._" Austria sighed and flicked his wrist dismissively. Germany was rolling something in his pocket between the fingers of his left hand.

"_Quiet! Listen…_" They both remained completely silent. On the other end of the cameras, Romano wondered what the Hell they were saying and why the two had suddenly gone so quiet.

"_What am I listening for?_"

"_Never mind, maybe I am just paranoid._"

"_Well, what is it you're hearing?_"

"_A low hum…_"

"_You're paranoid._" Germany was angry was what he was. Why hadn't Italy checked with him?! At least he knew Italy was alive somewhere, probably being tortured and made to do all sorts of terrible things. But he was alive, as alive as one had to be to sign divorce papers. Most likely he had been forced by the terrorists to do it. The man was such a doormat! So now he was angry, worried, paranoid and tired, so many bad things all seemed to be piling up. He ran a finger over the small half-chewed-up device in his pocket. He wasn't paranoid at least.

"Roderich, goh ged Berlitz for me." Roderich raised an eyebrow at Ludwig's strange request. It wasn't like Germany didn't let his dogs into his house, he loved them too much to be that cold, but at this moment it was odd for him to ask Austria to get one of them. "Ged Blackie und Aster too…" Ludwig added after a moment of contemplation.

"May I ask _why_?"

"Jus do it. It vill make sense vhen you ged back vid Berlitz."

"Whatever you say." With that Roderich left the room, passing from monitor to monitor in Romano's closet. It wasn't until Austria slipped out of sight of all the cameras that Romano noticed something… One of the screens was black, the message informing him of a non-transmitting camera the only thing on screen.

---

Romano's hair stood on end as he looked back to the screen Germany was on. The blonde had something in his hand. Romano zoomed the camera in as best he could without putting Germany's hand out of frame. The object glinted dully in Germany's bare hand.

"_Schifezza…_"

---

It wasn't long before Germany's three favorite girls rushed into the room and greeted him. Each barking and licking at him. Ludwig greeted them in less than typical fashion as his arm was not to be used for awhile. He smiled, laughed, praised them and pet each of their heads. Usually he would be down on his knees hugging them and doing generally non-Germany-type stuff. Once the greeting was done, it was time for business.

"_Platz!_" Each of the dogs were off him and on the floor immediately, awaiting his command. "Berlitz." The big German shepherd's ears pricked up even higher, ready for whatever her beloved master would ask of her. Germany knelt down by her, pocketing the object in hand for a moment. He moved aside the skin around her mouth to take a look at her gums. They had cuts in them as if she had been chewing on something sharp.

"Ludwig, what are you doing?" Roderich asked as he stood above him and the dogs, his arms folded across his chest.

"Dat piece of plasdic you gafe me. Do you know vhat it vas?" Ludwig asked as he patted Berlitz on the head.

"I assumed you would, that's why I gave it to you. Berlitz was just chewing on it when I dropped by yesterday."

"_Ja, _you tolt me. I do know vhat it ist." Next Germany reached back and picked the piece from his pocket, holding it out to Berlitz.

"Well what is it?" The dog sniffed at it eagerly, Germany let her concentrate on it.

"_Hol_!" Berlitz was off the ground and looking about the entire house in a second, the two other dogs looking to Germany curiously as if to say "don't we get to do something?". Berlitz returned to the room Germany and Roderich were waiting in, still sniffing and looking frantically.

"So, what is it?" Berlitz scratched at the bookcase, barking loudly, alerting Germany that she had found something. Germany narrowed his eyes and walked over to the case, examining the shelves intimately. And there it was, a glint, wedged between two books so innocuously leaned against one another. But this was Germany's house, all his books sat straight at all times.

---

Romano panicked as Germany glared at the camera and filled it's frame, petting his dog vigorously without a word.

"Shit!" Romano yelled to himself as he realized there was nothing he could do. A great hand engulfed the field of view. There was muffled talking as Romano tried to understand the garbled words. He could tell Germany was answering Austria's question and Austria was yelling back at the man. He quickly gave up trying to understand them as the language they were using rang as German. He was _royally_ fucked now.

The next thing he saw on camera about scared him out of his seat. Without his hair gelled back, Germany's bangs drooped over his forehead, enshrouding his eyes in a dark shadow. He had never looked more pissed off (or to Romano more frightening) in his life.

"Romano!" The German began angrily. "I know dis ist your to'ink!" His English speech was more slurred than Romano had ever heard it before, whatever threats that were to follow would be backed up 100 percent. "You're a low piece of shid for to'ink dis. Bud vor your bruder's sake I vill nod redaliade. I do nod holt anydink againsd him oder dan he drusds you. I cahn guess he ist vid you righd now, vhatefer you are to'ink do him, I don'd care anymore. You cahn hev your fooking bruder, I von'd dry do dalk do him, efer. Iv you ahre, howefer, eager vor dead dough, come vor a fisid somedime. Und I puncduade dat vid iv eider ov you, _eider_ ov you efer sed food in dis coundry I vill dear you apard. God id?" Romano swallowed at the threat as Germany's fingers curled around the camera and it lost signal.

---

"You can't mean that." Austria stated, intensely scrutinizing Germany, he knew full-well exactly what he was referring to. Ludwig tossed the pieces of the camera to the floor.

"Blackie, Berlitz, Aster!" The three dogs all gathered around the pieces of the camera and committed it to memory. "_Hol!"_ All three of them took off at Germany's command, he wanted every last camera and microphone out of this house!

"You don't… Do you?" Germany gave Austria a sidelong glare before trudging out of the room, following his three favorite girls.

-----

Notes:

Hurensohn! Das tut weh--Son of a bitch! That hurt!

La Cucaracha--The cockroach (XD I have a friend that used to think it was about the Chupacabra [sp?] I know that this is a Mexican song, but bare with me please ._.)

Ich habe ein schlechtes Gefühl--I have a bad feeling.

Wobei--About what? (I'm assuming since my translator didn't tell me exactly)

Schifezza--Crap…

Platz--Down! (dog command)

Hol--Fetch!

Purple & Red roses--There was symbolism behind the colors in the bouquet of roses Antonio gave Lovino XD. Red of course means passion and love. Light purple though means respect for the current relationship and that the uniqueness of it is cherished. If you ask me Romano and Spain certainly do have a damn unique relationship X)

Germany really does have three dogs named Blackie, Berlitz and Aster. When I first read Blackie's name I was like "Wow, Germany sure is inventive ain't 'e?"

But yes, for people who want to read this Please Review I've been sick recently and my vacation from work is over.=needs motivation

_Edit_

Accent, grammar, misspellings corrected, getting down to the last few chapters, yay!


	12. Aftermath XII Torn

"W-What did he say?" Feliciano was sitting up in bed. His back was fervently protesting any such movement, but he had to know. His doctor was trying to get him to lay back down and he wasn't listening, all that existed in that moment was Lovino and what he had to say.

The older of the twins had managed to muster some kind of courage after Germany had scared the living Hell out of him. He now stood before his pained brother, sweaty-palmed, not ready to admit that he had really done himself more of a disservice than anything. This would lead to Feliciano crying and acting like a baby, hiding away in his room for days on end without eating like he did when he was depressed. He took a deep breath and sighed before replying with a truly irritated tone.

"He said if you set foot in his nation he will rip both you and me apart. At least, I think that's what he said. The damn potato freak is always so damn unintelligible when he's angry."

"Bu…. But… I-I… I have to tell him!" Lovino jumped back when Feliciano attempted to get out of bed, tears streaming down from his eyes. The boy fought against his own doctor as he tried to push him back down into the bed. If this thrashing continued he would tear out his stitches.

"Help me, please! Calm him down somehow! He's going to hurt himself!" The doctor asked of Romano as he merely stood and watched his brother's tearful and pathetic reaction to this news. He snorted and walked along the other side of the bed, placing his hand on Feliciano's chest and roughly shoving his flailing and pitifully screaming relation into it.

"Shut up Veneziano! You're so immature you little brat!" He yelled at the sobbing boy he was embarrassed to admit was his brother. "Suck it up! He doesn't love you! Big deal! We can't all have what we want!" Tears pricked at his own eyes as he thought about how he had pushed Antonio out the door and his love life.

"But I love _him_! I don't care that he doesn't love me back… I just want to be able to see him!" Feliciano managed to scream through his sobs.

"This is your own fault!" Lovino yelled, the frantic boy ignored him though. The doctor, meanwhile was trying to calm Feliciano with soothing pats and reminding him that if he kept this screaming and thrashing up he was going to regret it later. "I-I-I have to apologize! I knew this was a bad idea! Bu-"

"A bad idea?! Feliciano, he hit you and yelled at you! He now hates you _just_ because you want to divorce him! Your marriage never meant anything anyway! He shouldn't be _this_ angry about it! He clearly overreacts to everything!"

"So do you!" The crying boy retorted. The older was speechless as Feliciano continued. "You yell at me! You hit me!" He stopped to sob and cough into his hand. "You were angry when I chose to marry him! _You_ overreact to everything! Do not start yelling about him when you are the same way! He's actually nice to me, though! He pays attention and plays games with me! Even when I make a mess of his house he just tells me to be more careful next time and cleans it up…" He sniffled and buried his face in his pillow. His muffled sobs barely reached Lovino's ears now. His body was shaking with the pain of his new scar and shudders of sorrow. He felt like he was going to die. Waste away in the bed in which he lay.

_Never be with Ludwig again…_ His inner monologue cruelly reminded him, seeing him was not the same as _being_ with him. He wouldn't let him touch him, their talks would be strictly political if they did speak again, he would never hug his love again. Never kiss him again… Ludwig would never kiss him again, even if he so rarely ever did in greeting. Never again would he ever get those small gems of friendly affection…

There was a sinking feeling felt between both of the twins just then. It was deep in their chests and it felt like something had been taken from them. The feeling was fleeting, as if a bird had flown over them and stole it as it went. They both knew what this was… They had felt it before… It had appeared that the divorce of the two nations had been finalized.

Feliciano felt this terrible and horrifying thing the strongest. Lovino had barely noticed. For Veneziano it felt like his heart had been ripped from his body, every scar over his skin burned as if they were about split and spew forth the hot blood that lay just beneath. His joints ached again and he was just so tired… He didn't want to wake up if he ever fell asleep.

Weakly, he turned his head from the pillow his face was in and stared forlornly at his brother who was still the picture of health. Lovino jumped back again and the doctor gasped at the sight of Feliciano's face. It appeared gaunt and sickly, dark circles were once again housed beneath his expressive orbs.

"Do you still say it was a good idea brother?" He turned his face back into the pillow and sighed as if the very effort it took to move his head had been too much for one day.

Under the terrified scrutiny of his doctor and his brother, Feliciano lay in bed as he once again felt himself begin to wither away.

---

Miles and miles away in Canada, the sun was beginning to rise over the frozen landscape. The sun threw rays of light through the glazed trees, the ice likewise throwing hundreds of tiny rainbows like diamonds. It streamed in through the windows, the light alone warming the back of the wakeful Prussian.

To wake up in the arms of another was a truly novel experience for Gilbert. He stared down at the blonde entangled in his arms as he continued to sleep peacefully. There had been light drinking last night, but nothing major to make him wonder what happened. The power hadn't returned and so it was normal that they chose to sleep in Matthew's bed together. Although the original rule was no touching after it was decided that that the outside temperature was "fuckin' colt" they had put aside their pride and inched together.

The very light that was cast upon his back through the windows spilled over his form and illuminated the small man in his arms. It cast a golden light on Matthew's already golden-orange hair, Gilbert could swear he could see his companion's breath in the air of the room, it too appeared golden. He took a deep breath and sighed, he was becoming a sentimental pansy wasn't he? As his breath mussed the hair of his sleeping friend, Matthew's eyes fluttered open.

"Oh that's a pleasant sight." The boy remarked with early-morning sarcasm.

"Of course it is! You ged to vake up to _my_ utterly awesome face!" Matthew squinted against the light of the sun, holding his hand up to shield them from the onslaught. "See! You ahre efen blintet by my radiand glory!"

"Sure, yeah, whatever Gil. Close the blinds, it's bright." Gilbert stayed where he was. He was holding Matthew to him and smirking down at him as if to say "aren't you forgedding someding?". So the routine of two years passed was to be resumed after all. The Canadian sighed deeply before correcting his request.

"Please, 'Gilbert the Awesome Conqueror of All Vital Regions' close the blinds." A proud smile of haughty self-satisfaction replaced Gilbert's smirk as he disentangled himself from Matthew and slipped from the warm bed. The sight that greeted Matthew though wasn't exactly the most pristine sight… "Why are you naked, eh?!" There were very few times the Canadian was grateful for his less than perfect vision…

"I alvays schleep naket, you know dat." Gilbert said as he closed the blinds.

"No I don't! We've never slept together before last night!" Matthew stuttered as his face turned red, this only made Gilbert's smirk reappear. It seemed that _he _was the forgetful one now. That had been decades ago though, maybe it was just a faded memory.

"You're soh easy Matthew." He turned around to head back to the bed, getting a crotch full of pillow.

"Be decent man!" It had hurt in some small way, causing Gilbert to hold the pillow where it was until the pain passed.

"How is it dat ef'ryvon forgeds you vhen you're von of de funnesd people I know?" He asked with total seriousness on his face and in his voice. The blush on Matthew's face deepened at the compliment.

"I-I don't think I'm that fun… I mean… Nothing ever happens with me." He twisted slightly to look away from Gilbert, he was hit with a sudden twinge of pain.

"Schoultn'd you clean dose dings?" The white-haired man motioned to his friend's shoulder and hand after noticing him twitch with pain. Matthew looked at the dirty bandages, afraid of what they would look like underneath without two days of care.

"Yeah."

"Do you vand me to help?" Gilbert sat back down in the bed, covering the parts of him Matthew obviously did not want to see.

"No, I'll be fine." He pushed himself up out of bed and put his glasses on. Holding a pillow to his chest to trap some heat against him, he headed for the door of his joined bathroom.

"Nice arsch man!" Prussia taunted Canada as he left. The beet-red blonde looked back at him, a severely embarrassed look on his face as his glasses slipped down his nose. Gilbert did nothing but smirk suggestively at him as he laid down in bed.

Matthew slammed his bathroom door shut and locket it. What was Gilbert's problem?! Sure, yeah, the man was perverted and yeah, he did go around yelling "I vill invate your vidal regions!" but… He sighed as he remembered Gilbert had been like this before. He just wasn't used to it anymore was all. He also had never been so close to Gilbert with so little clothes on. Or maybe he had and he had just repressed the memories... Either way, it certainly did leave him open for the man's usual jokes.

Matthew suspected Gilbert was out of bed now as he heard the floorboards squeak and protest as something walked over them. Even if it was cold Gilbert probably wasn't going to bother getting dressed and would just drag around a blanket. The man could be so childish, but Matthew loved his friend anyway.

The old bandages were tossed into the rubbish bin and Canada examined the wreck his hand was. It didn't look so good. He really needed to see a doctor soon about it. There was the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that it was infected.

"Eek!" Gilbert had surprised him with a knock to the door. There was a quick, mocking chuckle before he spoke.

"I checkt your hod vater header, it schtill hes aboud a schowver's vord lefd."

"Thanks Gil, you're awesome!" A shower? With his hand the way it was? He hummed thoughtfully and examined it again, the white bone of his knuckle gleamed back at him. It could use a good washing… But using tap and hair care products and other such external cleaners… He groaned and looked to the bullet wound on his shoulder. Most likely the hot tongs the other day had cauterized the inside of it and the outside looked better than he had expected it to.

At last deciding upon a course of action, he pulled a rubber glove (painfully) over his left hand and took off what was left of his clothes. Walking over to turn on his shower, he removed his glasses and sat them down on the counter.

Pleased to see that Gilbert had not lied about the hot water, he stepped into the pleasantly warm stream and wet down his hair. He gasped as the water ran over the bullet hole and stung like nothing he had ever felt before. He cursed lightly and dealt with the pain as he reached for the soap.

"Hope you don'd mint Matthew!" Was the loud prelude to the bathroom door getting kicked in.

"Gilbert!" The soap slipped from Matthew's hand as the naked Prussian pushed the curtain aside and hopped in to join him. Canada immediately went down to recover the lost soap, losing his balance against the soap scum-coated floor and falling straight into the legs of his friend.

Gilbert, too awesome to lose his footing, stood firm and looked down at the prostrate, wet and equally naked man. He admired his friend's ass for a moment before a malevolent smirk found its way to him, his taunt coming effortlessly to his lips. "Droppt de soap dit ya?" Matthew's face shot up from the hot floor, a retort saddled upon his lips as easily as taunt had been for Gilbert. But it stopped short as the strawberry-blonde caught sight of what was _just_ above his head. Sputtering and a red face was all the boy could offer the situation. It took him nearly a whole minute to articulate anything at all.

"Prussia! Get out of my shower, eh!" Gilbert smiled fondly down at his fuming friend, malevolence barely twisting his visage anymore.

"Noh." Was his simple reply as he reached down to help his obviously in pain companion up. The Canadian eyed him warily, usually these olive branches were false and would lead to Gilbert removing his hand right as Matthew left the ground. In the end he chose to take the elder's hand. Upon finding himself standing up straight in the hot stream of water, he was rather surprised that Gilbert made no further jokes and just moved on to the task of washing his hair.

Canada took the offered shampoo from the albino and began to wash his own then.

"Why are you in here Gil?" He asked, turning his back to his friend to give them both some privacy.

"I neetet a schowver of course. Efen de awesome me bades." Gilbert stated as he quickly scrubbed the suds from his hair. Canada peered over his shoulder a minute and chuckled when he saw the suds were grey against his friend's hair.

"Couldn't you have waited though?" He stepped back until his head was under the stream and they were back-to-back.

"Hello! 'Enough for von schowver'?!" Gilbert said indignantly. "Do you expecd me to take a _colt_ schowver?!"

"After your odd behavior yesterday and this morning… I should think you need one." The Prussian snorted.

"You hev losd your sense of humor." He shoved Matthew in the rear with his own to clear the stream for his own use. After it was clear Gilbert was washing soap off his front, a long, low moan issued from his throat… Canada's already red face grew hot once again.

"Are you jacking off in _my_ shower?!" He squirted the entire bottle of body wash into Gilbert's ear.

"Augh! _Nein_!" Prussia tore the showerhead off the wall and turned the temperature to cold.

"EEK! Gilbert!"

"Kesesesesese!!! Nod soh tough now, _eh_?! You can nefer defead de awesomeness dat _ist_ _Preußen!_ Bow to me!"

"Gilbert! Stop! You're getting water in my hole!"

"I'm gedding it in your vhat?!" He lowered the showerhead to see Canada examining the bullet hole in his shoulder, shivering with cold. "Oh, ist it alrightd?" He leaned in to look at it, only to have Matthew bat his face away.

"Stop it, God." The blonde groaned at him. He leaned forward as if to see if water would suddenly come rushing out in a great torrent. A relieved look came over him as he saw only a few drips.

Frowning, Gilbert turned the water to warm and remounted the showerhead on the wall. Perhaps he had be a bit more careful of Matthew considering they were snowed in and the nearest medical assistance was far away in a tiny town that really didn't have a hospital so much as a _clinic_. Even when the weather was fair it would take them an hour to get there, not even speaking of how bad the ice was now.

"Ahre you okay?" He asked as he pointed the warm water on Matthew. The blonde sighed with relief and turned his back to Gilbert again. The warm water ran down his back in soothing streams.

"Yes. Just please be a bit more mindful. I know it's you Gilbert and you can't necessarily help how you are… But please try." With both of their backs turned to one another, Gilbert folded his arms across his chest and frowned, silently brooding.

The rest of their shower together was silent. Gilbert, too proud to verbally admit he was sorry and Matthew not knowing what more to say. The water began to cool and that was the time they both agreed their time in heaven was over. Gilbert shut off the water and stepped out into the warm, steamy room. He looked at the condensation on the mirror and chuckled. He put a hand to the mirror and wiped his hand down it, leaving a long, smeared handprint. Next he looked to Matthew for a second, quirking his eyebrows.

Matthew's eyebrow rose as he looked to the steamy mirror and the handprint. Gilbert chuckled again when Matthew didn't seem to get it.

"Efer seen dat American mofie? 'Tidanic'?" He asked with a suggestive smirk.

"Oh…" Matthew sighed and weakly punched Gilbert's bare shoulder. The albino blinked at the weaker than normal retaliation.

"Ahre you feeling okay?" The blonde nation was red in the face, but in a different way than being embarrassed or angry. Gilbert tentatively put his hand to the smaller one's forehead.

"Mng, I'm fine Gil." Matthew pushed the concerned hand from his head. "Steam just makes me a little…" He stumbled backwards, Gilbert caught his right arm and pulled him against him in overcompensation. He was just so light! Matthew looked up to him, his chin resting on the other's. "Dizzy."

Matthew's face was so close… Was Gilbert blushing? He decided it was the heat and steamy atmosphere of the room getting to him.

The Canadian, not realizing the compromising position the two were in due to the steam, sighed and leaned on his naked companion. He rested his head on Gilbert's shoulder, it was clear he tried to say something but went limp in the embrace before he could get it out.

"Euh… Matthew?" Well… This was awkward. Heaven forbid if America were to show up. Deciding that thinking that had utterly jinxed him because of the younger's brother's bad habit of showing up at the worst of times and where he wasn't wanted, he threw the bathroom door open. A wave of cold bombarded him and the limp boy in his arms. He slammed the door to keep anymore heat from escaping the gloriously, steamy room.

Groaning, he carefully lugged his friend over to the linen closet and leaned him against the wall. After making sure he wasn't going to slip down it too far, he opened the closet and pulled out a couple of Matthew's fluffy towels. Gathering the smaller man up in his arms, he wrapped two of the towels around him. Taking a deep breath and hoping he wouldn't break anything, he kicked the door open. The cold air flew to meet him and the incapacitated body in his arms once again. His teeth chattered and he shivered as he faced the room wet and totally nude.

"F-F-Fuck!" He slowly made his way to the bed and thrust Matthew totally beneath the sheets and comforter. At least one of them would be warm. "Dis coundry!" The man trudged from the master bedroom to his designated room in search of clothes.

After pulling on possibly three layers of clothes, Gilbert poked his head into his friend's room. There was a half-shivering mound beneath the sheets. He hummed thoughtfully to himself and touched his chin. An idea dawned in mere moments, but was quickly overshadowed by something else. Reaching up under the hood of a sweatshirt he had on, he felt his hair where the small chick usually sat. Where was Gilbird? Humming thoughtfully to himself, he stepped out into the hallway, put his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. An enthusiastic chirping noise floated from the lower level, Gilbert followed it. Eventually he ended up in the fireplace room to see Kumajirou with Gilbird sprawled out on the floor. The bird was nuzzled deep into the belly fur of the bear.

"Dere you two ahre!" He said walking over to the two.

"Who're you?" The white fuzz-ball asked.

"Hey! Vhat hev I tolt you?! Dat does _nod_ vly vid de awesome me! I am Prussia unt you bedder remember it!" The Prussian yelled as his little, yellow chick flapped off the bear's stomach and made its home inside the hood of the sweatshirt his owner was wearing. "Now come hier." He leaned down and picked the bear up in much the same manner that Matthew did… Only to find that he really didn't give the boy enough credit for his strength. The bear easily weighed forty or fifty pounds! How the Hell did _Canada_ of all people manage to lug this bear around so easily using only one arm?! He made it look so easy! No matter, Gilbert just had to use two arms instead of one to keep the bear comfortably suspended.

He hurried up the stairs to the bedroom, the bear remaining quiet, the bird too. Matthew was still shivering unconsciously beneath the sheets when Gilbert arrived. This time though he had a furry hot water bottle with him.

Lifting the sheets Gilbert stared at the boy in wonder, he was adorable in sleep… Even if he was freezing his ass off. Kumajiro merely looked and asked "Who is that?" The red-eyed man rolled said eyes and stuck the bear underneath the covers with Matthew. Surprisingly, the boy instantly responded to the moving ball of warm and clutched him tightly to him. The bear did not protest and just curled up against his master's chest.

Gilbert's chest swelled with something he could not place. It wasn't long before he felt an affectionate smile curve his lips. What a sight that must've been, he was happy there was no mirror for him to see his face in. But he absolutely adored his friend. He looked even cuter and cuddlier when he was snuggled up to his little, white bear in sleep. The man took a deep breath and sighed, he really was becoming sentimental, damn all those years of boredom. They had made him soft. He dropped the covers back down over Matthew and the bear and his stomach alerted him to its current state of emptiness. He had to stifle a chuckle as he realized his cook was probably not going to wake up for a little while. Maybe there was still some _wurst_ left over from the last time he was here…

After searching the kitchen for twenty minutes and finding none of his _wurst _he chose to try this "Canadian bacon" thing. He figured it was about the same. Putting the cylindrical sausage-esque thing on a plate, he sliced some pieces off of the still half-frozen meat and stuck the rest of it back in the useless freezer. He carried a pan, cooking utensils and the meat out into the fireplace room and set himself to the task of remembering just how Matthew had started their fires with just one match.

He held up the box of matches to his ear and shook it, a morbid sound greeted him. The box slid open easily, inside was but one match. So, he set off to find the usual things Matthew had used for tinder the previous night and the night before that. In the end he wadded it all up and stuck it beneath a large couple of logs. He checked to make sure the flue was open and leaned close to the various items used for tinder. The match struck and came alive with a foul-smelling flame.

A particularly strong gust of wind came down the chimney at that moment and the flame was gone….

"Fuck!" The man roared up the flue. Well this was just perfect! His stomach grumbled again, reminding him that "fuck" was not going to make him feel better. Grumbling, he stood up and tried to remember where Matthew kept the spare matches. _Doesn't he keep them in that metal cabinet?_

Considering it was the only thing that came readily to mind, Gilbert nodded and headed off to the kitchen. He headed through the room and out into the garage, his shadow was cast eerily on the far wall. Strolling past a chair that seemed to have some slashed bulky twine laying around it, a smashed plate also seemed to be strewn around the area, he arched an eyebrow. What the Hell did Matthew _do_ when he was not around?

He made it to the metal cabinet that had a few more dents in it than he remembered and opened it. Sure enough, right there was what he was looking for. More than one of them he was happy to see. He plucked a box of matches off the top of the stack and closed the door, turning around as he did. Then there was a clink on the floor. A seemingly insignificant sound but it was enough to catch Gilbert's interest. He looked down and there on the floor was a bullet. Not just a random bullet laying around, no, this one had been fired… He looked back to the chair and paced over, pocketing the matches in his coat. There was blood spattered on part of the chair and ropes. The floor had it too. His eyes widened as he thought about what Matthew had told him the day he arrived. The thing about America smashing his hand in the door earlier that day… Then there was the bullet wound…

He looked over to Matthew's car then, the only thing that could provide adequate protection against flying bullets. Bingo, just what he had been looking for. The hood of the car had blood on it, the side did too. On the floor was a particularly decent-sized smear. The man hadn't had time to clean it up… He had been shot not even an hour before he himself arrived… Prussia ground his teeth as he realized what this meant. He was a very intuitive man as his brain made connections between things very quickly. Canada had been the culprit of kidnapping Feliciano. It had to be Italy's blood on the floor by the chair… But if that was Italy's blood, where was Italy?

"Shid!" In a rage he stormed from the garage and up the stairs to Canada's room. "Canada!" He yelled and ripped the covers from the bed, throwing them across the room.

The smaller nation woke with a start as Kumajirou fearfully kicked off Canada and jumped from the bed, bolting from the room. "What is it Gilb-" A gloved hand was at his throat, choking him. He gripped at the angered hand and tried to tear it off. Canada gritted his teeth then and looked up to Prussia defiantly when his first attempt didn't work. The open hostility there… The very un-joking look of anger and… Hurt… Was very clear on his friend's face.

"Vhere ist Italy?!" The elder yelled in his face, spit flying. Tears were at Canada's eyes, he was not naked in a freezing cold room in the middle of nowhere with his friend anymore. He was all these things with an enemy. His hand went behind himself to attempt to draw a gun, Gilbert was quick though, his other hand snatched the younger's wounded hand and squeezed.

"Ah! Prussia!" Canada squealed past the hand that fiercely gripped his neck.

"Don'd make me break your finkers, Canada, I vill."

"Gil-" Canada attempted to choke out past his assaulter's hand.

"Do **nod** call me Gilbert!" He shook the boy like a rag doll to emphasize his point. The tears in Canada's eyes now flowed freely down his cheeks but that adoring swell in Gilbert's chest was long gone now, he did not care. He glared down at the blonde as he choked back a sob Gilbert's vise-like hand wouldn't allow out. "Don'd you schtard crying you liddle pansy!" The Prussian shook him again and threw him out into the hallway.

A disconcerting crack issued from Canada's head as he flew into the banister outside his room. Dammit, he had to get up! Prussia was advancing on him again, get up! Get up! Shakily he got to his feet only to have Prussia slug him harshly in the face. He stumbled down the hallway and fell to the floor again in front of the stairs. The skin of his cheek was torn, the back of his head was bleeding… Prussia was going to kill him.

"Vhere ist Italy?!" He kicked Canada's ribs, another crack and a bitten off scream from the boy reached Gilbert's ears. The man knelt by his crying _former_ ally, he wrapped his fingers in Canada's hair. It was almost a caress, would have been…

"I-I don't know." Prussia yanked Canada's face up to his kneeling level by the blonde hair he thought so beautiful. He hissed in his ear. "You lying piece ov shid…" Canada squirmed and made noises of painful protest as Prussia stood up.

"Prussia! Unhand me now!" A menacing "kesesesese" reached Canada's ears as he noticed Gilbert was examining the stairs… "NO! Please!"

"Mmmng, too lade." Headfirst, Prussia threw the boy down the stairs. As he watched the boy tumble down the large flight of stairs, Gilbert realized… His anger was less about him kidnapping Italy and more about him lying to him. It hurt that his friend had kept this from him. It hurt that he couldn't count him as a friend anymore. Above all it hurt that he had to do this. He ground his teeth and went down the stairs after him.

Matthew was little more than a broken pile by the end of the flight, his shoulder wound and hand were bleeding, a bruise was forming where Gilbert had kicked him and his face was sore. Somehow he managed to move enough to touch the area around his mouth, his nose was bleeding and it was probably broken. Prussia's boots strode into his field of vision. He swallowed harshly, waiting for more kicks and assaults to come.

"You hev nod answert me." The man growled, Canada curled in on himself to shut out the pain and the cold as he lay naked and battered at his feet.

"I-I told you, I don't know." He replied meekly. He _wished_ that this was one of his friend's practical jokes. That Gilbert would start laughing any second now and apologize while he got him to a hospital. A sharp jab to his side and the crack of one of his ribs told him that this was not going to happen. He sobbed into his arm. "Answer me _trudfully_ und I vill leafe."

"H-He's with Lovino." He choked out, he wished that he hadn't ratted his love out but… His best friend now hated him, he was naked, bleeding, it was cold and they were miles away from any help.

"Lovino? You two ahre on a human basis?"

"I'm sorry Gilb-"

"Don'd! Call me Gilbert!" Matthew curled in tighter on himself, his ribs screaming. He sniffled and choked back another sob.

"Romano ordered me to kidnap his brother. Bring him here and wait… I didn't think he would come so soon. He fired at me, I ran and hid. The gunplay was for appearances until I accidentally shot Romano's arm and he got pissed. He shot my hand and my shoulder." That had actually surprised Prussia… What surprised him even more was that Matthew was telling him all of this… He squatted down next to the man, running a few fingers through his hair, Canada winced. "Please forgive me Gilb-" Prussia twisted Canada's hair.

"Don'd call me-"

"I'm not talking to you Prussia! It's not _you_ I'm begging with to forgive me!" Had Canada been hit in the head a few too many times?

"Uh…" Prussia stared down at the boy as if he were crazy.

"I'm not begging the _nation_ of Prussia to forgive me. I'm pleading with _Gilbert Beilschmidt_." Gilbert sighed and loosened his grip on Matthew's hair, gently massaging the head beneath it. "I was only following orders." Matthew hiccupped and Gilbert stood. "Please don't leave." He wrapped his arms painfully around Prussia's boots.

"Ged ovf me." Prussia gently ordered, punctuating it with a jerk of one of his legs.

"Don't leave." Gilbert worked his feet free of Canada's embrace and headed for the door. He didn't care if he had to search for forever to find where he had parked his damn car. Anywhere was better than where he was. He could hear Matthew sob into the floor as he opened the door and closed it behind him.

---

Over in Germany it was a cold and cloudy afternoon. There wasn't snow yet but the news said there was going to be.

Ludwig patted Berlitz's head as she licked his knuckles, he was going over paperwork in his office. Another night and Gilbert was nowhere to be found. He even stopped by Gilbert's house in the eastern area of Berlin this morning to see if the man was just screening his calls. He wasn't home the place was barren… Had his own brother betrayed him too?

The house seemed empty, though Gilbert had a home he was usually lazing on Ludwig's couch, or had been over the past two years, where he lazed before that he didn't know. Perhaps his own house? There was also the profound lack of noise generated by the small Italian whose invitation had been rescinded, Roderich had left the previous night after they had removed the last of the cameras and microphones. So, for the moment, he was totally alone, well, save for his dogs. Astor and Blackie were probably off somewhere in the house sleeping.

He sipped his coffee calmly and continued to go over his paperwork. It was so annoying to not be able to use his right arm, his hand writing was utterly appalling! He resolved to become fully ambidextrous by the end of this experience.

The office phone rang and he sipped his coffee without hurry, putting the cup down when he was done.

"Hello?" He tiredly answered, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"_Guten Tag Westen._" Gilbert greeted, some quality to his voice alerted Ludwig to his extremely foul mood. What this quality was he could not say, but it was a wonderful tip off that something had happened to him.

"_Was ist dein Problem_?" The man at the other end of the phone sighed, there was a sound as he ruffled his hair in frustration.

"It's noding. Hef you talkt to Feliciano?" Ludwig's stomach tightened and his throat went dry.

"No, he diforct me actually." There was silence between them.

"_He_ diforct _you_? Gotdammid _Westen_, vhat dit you do in… Two days?!"

"Noding. He signet de papers dough und it became ovficial lasd nightd." The agitation wasn't as clear in his voice as he had hoped it to be, in truth he was more depressed than angry at the boy right now.

"Oh shid… Righd ahs I fint oud vhere he ist too." Ludwig's heart leaped in his chest, he had no desire to _see_ Italy, but knowing where was for sure was a great relief.

"Vhere?"

"He's vid Romano." Gilbert heard a loud crackle over the phone. Ludwig had probably cracked the phone's receiver again. "Calm down _Westen_, he's mosd likely save."

"I know. I suspecdet alreaty dat he vas vid his bruder."

"Ludwig, ve neet to talk aboud someding vhen I ged back… I'fe been meaning to talk to you aboud it for some time…" Germany groaned in the back of his throat, it was important if Gilbert actually used his name. On Gilbert's end, though he was thinking about how he had put this off for far too long. He had promised when the two initially got married that later he would tell Germany after things had settled down… That plan didn't seem like such a good idea anymore.

"Fine… Vhere dit you goh anyway, I cahn'd remember." There was a "tsk tsk tsk" noise over the phone and he suspected his brother was rolling his eyes at him.

"I vend to see ahn olt freund. Dankfully he knew vhat vas going on." That irritated tone with a hint of sadness was back in Gilbert's voice, he was oddly expressive over the phone today…

"You hev a freund? Who?" The younger of the two asked, on the one end curious and on the other joking.

"Doesn'd madder."

"Okay den. Vhere ahre you? De caller id says you ahre using a phone bood." He heard his brother scoff before answering.

"Some hick town called Ifujifik."

"Ifujifik? Vhere de Hell is dat?!"

"Nordern Quebec."

"Vhere?"

"Canada…" Even when speaking of the mere location his little brother forgot!

"Uh… Nord America, righd?" The blonde seemed to remember reading his brother's atlas a long time ago. _Canada... Why is that so familiar? Oh! Yeah! That!_

"_Ja_. Gread job dere _Westen_."

"Soh, vaid, you're dere to see Canada himselv _ja_?"

"I vas. He vas my freund I came to speak vid." There was a slight noise over the phone as Ludwig seemed to be hitting his hand against his face, perhaps after remembering some crucial piece information. Sometimes it took him so long to remember Gilbert and Canada's connection, other times it required hardly any thought at all.

"Und he knew vhat vas going on? How?"

"Kepd ahn eye on dings. De man is ahn evfectife schpy."

"Evfectife… Vaid, Gilbert, my home vas bugget… Schtill voult be provably if Berlitz hatn'd fount von of de cameras und chewt it up vhile Roderich vas hier…" Gilbert remained silent… _Matthew_ went so far as to bug his little brother's _home_. He knew the boy had guts, Hell he stood up to Gilbert… But going into _Germany's_ home and bugging it just because he was ordered and getting away with it… He had more than guts, the kid had balls of steel! And apparently was really loyal up until Prussia started beating on him… He was just awesome enough to break someone's resolve… Or maybe it was more that Matthew didn't want to fight his best friend… He growled in the back of his throat before answering Ludwig.

"_Fick_. Dit you remofe ahll of dem?"

"I dink soh… I send de dogs to search de haus. Dere vas a liddle ofer tvendy of dem."

"Vhat vas he looking for I vonter…"

"It vas Romano, dit he neet a reason to invate my prifacy?"

"I guess nod…"

"Vhen vill you be back?"

"Soon I dink. Rememper, don'd goh novhere. Ve _neet_ to talk."

"Vhat ist it dat's soh importand?" Germany was sincerely curious, his brother's mood had him curious too. He hadn't heard about the ice storm up in Quebec obviously and also wanted to know why Gilbert had spent so much time with Canada… No one but he ever consistently remembered who the boy was… There was that he lived with him for that month during his recovery, but he never showed any benevolent interest in the boy otherwise. When he visited them on April fool's day a few years ago it hadn't ended so well. His brow furrowed when one thing lead to another in his head… But if his brother was in a relationship why did that anger him?

"Lader." Was Gilbert's only reply. Ludwig was rather embarrassed about his next question, but he knew he would forget it if he didn't ask now.

"Erhm… Dere's someding else I vant to ask _Osten…"_

"Holy-Hell vhat ist it?! It's colt in dis damn bood, make id fasd!"

"Er… Ahre you unt Canada… Erhm…" His neck and ears were warm now. "Uhm… A 'ding'?"

"I'm nod a pansy-arsch fag like you Ludwig." That struck a powerful chord within the blonde.

"I am _nod_ a fag Prussia! Und vhat dit I schay aboud dat vort!?" The usual smirk was back in the Prussian's voice when he spoke next.

"You schtadet I coultn'd descripe _Italy_ vid it. You nefer sait anyding aboud yourselv."

"Okay den, jus schtop using de vort periot."

"Oooh, dit I schtrike a chort? Fag, fag, fag, fa-"

"Schud up! Vhy musd you be soh gotdamn annoying all de time?!" Not the least bit flustered with his lovable brother's behavior, he answered with no hint of snark or smirk.

"Because you ahre my bruder. I'm supposet to be annoying, _Westen_." Ludwig snorted, acknowledging the truth of the matter. "Vhy ahre you soh sensitife aboud it anyvay?" He thought himself a wonderful brother for caring.

"It's a demeaning vort." Ludwig started, sounding a bit ashamed to be admitting this. "It schoult only be ust in de proper senses of de vort. Like euh, to be exhaustet, or a cigaretde…" Gilbert couldn't help but laugh. His brother had greatly cooled off since World War II if he could say that. But then again, that war was many decades ago. Even as people nations changed, not just themselves as countries. He nearly joked about whether or not Ludwig thought it applied to him in some way, but chose not to as bringing that up would ensure he wouldn't have his audience later.

"You'fe become such a pansy ofer de years. Dat's soh cude!" In his mind this was a much better alternative…

"Gilbert." Now, despite the fact that Germany had grown a bit softer over the years he still could be quite terrifying. Even to Gilbert. Germany's strength far surpassed his own as he was technically an ex-nation that was _now_ Germany. His strength only went so far as the natural strength his human body. He still held the symptoms of being a nation however, he never aged and he could "pull" things from his country, which was technically East Germany… But he was nowhere near as connected to the land as he once was. During the terrorist attacks he only ached where his brother bled, he had little to worry about when it came to world affairs and there was the fact that he was alone in his strength. There was something good he thought of this, where everyone else's relationships were swayed by the fickleness of the people that lead them he was left totally to his own mind. He was more of his own person than anyone else could say they were.

"Cool ovf _Westen_. I'm only joking. Anyvay, it's colt hier und I neet to fint a vay home. I vill see you vhen I see you. _Tschüss._" He hung up the phone before Ludwig could reply.

The blonde sighed, everything was just… Messed up right now. He hated Italy for divorcing him, but they had planned to somewhere down the road. So why was he this angry? He hated Romano and his meddling, but he couldn't attack because his brother was innocent. His own brother had been acting strange and wouldn't tell him what was wrong. Apparently he needed to say something very important too. He'd heard that over in Italy there were riots and the government was having trouble controlling them. There was talk of bringing in English and American force. His own nation was still recovering from the attacks not even a week ago yet. The damage to his capital hadn't been too extensive, but the people that had died… How had things managed to get so bad so quick?

"_Romano._" He growled to himself angrily.

Berlitz jumped to put her paws on Germany's good arm and leaned in, licking his face. At least his dogs were the same.

"_Platz, platz, Berlitz._" The German shepherd got down from the arm of the chair as Ludwig moved to caress her head. He whistled through his teeth, Blackie and Astor trotted into the room to join him. "_Ah, meine guten Mädchen. Wenigstens ihr seid noch da._" He sighed and just enjoyed the company of his dogs.

To say that he didn't feel any physical effects of the divorce would've been a lie, Italy's people had become his people too, he had felt the strength that Italy truly had… But was totally lazy and unwilling to use. When the divorce had been finalized yesterday evening, "settlements" made (by just the people no less) he had suddenly felt tired and drained. He felt better after a night's sleep, but still he felt like taking a nap.

There was a feeling within him then, it's not like this feeling was uncommon but it was just unexpected today. It denoted that there was another nation within his boarders that was openly wandering around. Whoever it was they didn't seem hostile, if they were he probably wouldn't have been able to feel them at all. On top of that they wouldn't be so unguardedly wandering around in plain sight. These abilities of his did not allow him to know who it was so he decided to leave them be as long as they weren't causing problems.

He remembered then that he probably should call Japan…

---

Italy wandered around the countryside of his love's land. He was doing so openly so Germany knew _someone_ was there, but he sometimes feared Ludwig was psychic and always knew who it was. His doctor had gone on lunch break and he had no idea where Lovino had gotten off to… The stitches in his back stung and burned with each step but he knew what his current state was. This would only progress slowly until he wouldn't be able to stand at all. His whole tired and creaky state.

Originally he had come here to apologize to Germany. Maybe the could make amends for this and he wouldn't be so mad. He had no idea what to say or even how to go about doing it properly. There was also that he planned to tell Ludwig about the feelings he had for him. That would even _more_ difficult to approach.

"Ve…" He sighed hopelessly, his back throbbing with renewed vigor as he slumped forward a bit while walking. To take his mind off these depressing things, he examined the Bavarian countryside. It was beautiful, but today was cold and cloudy, he would love to come here with Ludwig during the summer. Even in this cold and dreary December it was breathtaking.

After about forty-five minutes more of wandering around, Italy came upon a small town, not totally sure he should go in or skip past it. Then again, most people this way probably had never seen him as he generally spent more time in Berlin than anywhere when in Germany. Gathering his courage and pushing back a nervous quake in his stomach, he merrily strode into the town limits.

Immediately his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten in hours and he knew he probably wasn't going to find pasta here… Nonetheless, he walked into a small restaurant and sat down.

Italy sighed, poking whatever it was he had ordered awhile ago with a fork. To him it looked more as if it was going to eat him rather than the other way around.

He picked up the large mug of beer and took a small sip. The same mug had been sitting in front of him for over a half-hour now and he wasn't even half-way through it. It seemed dreary in this place despite the cheery atmosphere. Everyone in the room seemed to be avoiding him. Sure yes, he was new to this area, but with the way everyone in the room was talking with one another he assumed _someone_ would come and talk to him. Weren't people in this small town at least _curious_ about the new person? Something that really tipped him off that he wasn't particularly welcome here were some of the looks he was getting. He could even swear someone had said something about a _Makkaronifresser_… Now he didn't exactly know what it meant but it was clearly an insult of some sort with the tone it was said in. He didn't understand how anything pertaining to macaroni was bad though… Again he poked his food.

German mumbling reached him from somewhere along the edges of Italy's consciousness, well, that and something cold being dumped on his head.

"Ve!" The small man shot up off the plate in which he had fallen asleep in. When had he even fallen asleep? Why was he soaked and smelling of beer? He was aware of the laughter in the background, also of a very raucous laughter closer to him. Confusedly he looked up to a random man he did not know. His face was a pleasant red color indicating that he was indeed drunk.

Two men rushed up as Italy opened his mouth to say something to the man. By the hand motions and the apologetic faces on them two men he could guess they were apologizing for their friend's behavior. One pulled the larger, still laughing man away, mumbling something in German to him. The one that stayed behind offered Italy a towel to dry himself with. He said something to Italy, but it was only German and Italy felt the major barrier that was their languages.

"Oh it's alright." Feliciano said as he accepted the cloth from the man, he hoped the man understood English. By the tipped over and empty mug before him, he could guess that it was what had been dumped on him. It did explain the smell.

"You speaK Englisch." Italy cheerily smiled.

"Uh-huh! Really it's alright. He's drunk right?"

"Erh, yes…" The man seemed to wonder why he wasn't angrier about the whole thing, but really he was grateful for it. "I'm sorry aboud your clodes… Euh…" He seemed to search for the correct words in the language he wasn't terribly familiar with. "Cahn I do someding for you to make up for it?" Italy seriously considered it for a moment, he _was_ being awful nice about this.

"You can tell me what time it is!" He smiled, wiping his face off once again and starting to pat his hair so it would stop dripping.

"Euh, it's aboud seventeen hundert…"

"Euh?! Wha?! I-It's five o'clock already?!" He had been asleep for _two_ hours! Two hours in a restaurant?! Why hadn't staff woken him up or something?!

"Is dere anyding I cahn do aht ahll, really?"

"Ehr…" Italy started to say something but stopped. If he chose to walk back to Italy from here he would be a pastacicle! Maybe he could as for a ride? No, no humans it took much longer for them to traverse nations now that he remembered. "You can point out a place for me to stay the night… And maybe somewhere I can go to get my clothes clean…" The German man's face lit up.

"You cahn schtay at _mein_ place for de nighd!"

"Uwah!? Really!? You won't mind?!" Italy was utterly astonished at the man's kindness! The country-folk of Germany were so nice! He definitely liked this place.

"_Nein, nein_! _Ist _nod a problem! I cahn wasch your clodes too. Euh?! Vhat's wrong?!" And Italy was out again, his face in whatever it was that he had ordered earlier…

"Vaaake uuuuup… Hey! Vake up buddercup!" For the second time that night, Italy felt something cold slosh against his face, but this time he heard cursing in the background rather than laughter.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please don't hit me! I have family here in Bavaria! Pleeeease!" He sprung up in bed, his hands together in the universal symbol of pleading. "Please before I die could you just give me-"

"Feliciano! I'm nod going to kill you!"

"Eh?!" The Italian risked opening one eye and looking at the man who knew his name, upon seeing the face dizziness from the quick change in altitude hit him and he slumped back to the bed. There was more yelling in the language Feliciano did not understand, the one who awakened him yelled back at them.

"Damn humans." The man sighed when he looked back to the brunette prostrate on the bed. "You don'd look soh goot."

"I don't feel so good." Feliciano whined to the older man standing over him.

"Vhat de Hell ahre you doing in Bavaria?"

"I don't know." He answered truthfully, he really couldn't remember why he was here. Something about talking to Germany. "Oh! I have to tell Germany something!" He shot up again only be pushed back down by a gentle hand.

"Calm down. Vhat a coincidence dat I hev someding to tell him too."

"Prussia what are you doing here?"

"I arrifet in Berlin nod efen an hour ago und vontert who vas heir…" Really Gilbert was just putting off talking to his brother. It was really important that he talk to him but he was unsure of how to do it correctly. He was rather hoping the person in the land was France but no such luck. "Glat I came und fount you. Dis couple hier vas nice enough to bring you hier vhen you passt oud at a restaurand."

"Oh…" Feliciano leaned to stare past the man obscuring his view, there was the man that had offered to let him spend the night! He had a lovely wife too! They both didn't look so pleased to see Prussia in their house though… "Uhm… Prussia, can I stay at your house tonight?" What time was it anyway?

"Vhat's lefd of it you cahn."

"What time is it?"

"It's aboud two in de morning." Italy was speechless, he was already falling asleep for hours on end without memory of when he even fell asleep… Was he really almost to that point again where… He sniffled. Not again… And this time, he didn't have Germany to save him. "Uhm, I don't know if I can get up by myself…"

"Fine, fine, I'll carry you." Gilbert leaned over and carefully maneuvered the Italian into his arms. He was very light… He looked terrible on top of that.

As Gilbert started to leave the room with him and say his thank yous, Italy could feel himself going under again. How far along was he? It had only been…. Two days if that… He shouldn't be at this point yet, not after two months with a stable country like Germany. But it only had been two months… He groaned and fell asleep in the Prussian's arms.

This time he dreamed… But this sleep was anything but restful.

-----

ist Preußen--is Prussia (I think the traditional spelling is better don't you?)

Wurst--German sausage

Guten Tag Westen--Good afternoon West.

Was ist dein Problem--What is your problem?

Ifujifik--Ivujivik (It's a small town up in Northern Quebec, since it's unaccented name is never said I feel that maybe I should put it here.)

Fick--Fuck

Tschüss--Bye

Ah, meine guten Mädchen. Wenigstens ihr seid seid noch da.--Ah, my good girls. At least you're still here.

Makkaronifresser--Macaroni eater (Or something like that [Old derogatory term for Italians])

Random German Guy III in Restaurant--I loved this dude because he speaks Germlish, XD, yes, the bad mixing of English and German was intended.

So yeah, this chapter has a whole lot of abuse in it (at least of Canada :C) never fear though! For I love happy endings! Uhm, yeah i realize i threw some weird parts in there (kudos if you can guess which ones I am referring to) there will be more of those to come (and if I ever make side stories for this will occasionally be important points) it's only touched on in this fanfic though (thank god as it's already complicated)

At this point I think I would even accept flames since I deserve it for my bad behavior towards the very characters I love D:

_Edit_

German has been corrected, chapter has been extended and misspellings with accents have been fixed.


	13. Aftermath XIII Branched

As I sit here and listen to the song Nine People's Favorite Thing I realize something, I love all of my loyal readers and would love to thank them for all the support they have given me thus far X3 without you guys this story would've died long before chapter ten and now here we are at thirteen and I still want to complete it. "I'd rather be nine people's favorite thing than 100 people's ninth favorite thing" at the end of the day and for you people who love this story as much as I do (or I at least hope you do XD) know that I _will_ be finishing this!

Enjoy Aftermath 13 Branched!

---

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. It was becoming--beep--annoying. Beep. Snore, beep. Who was--beep,snore--snoring? Beep, snore, beep, squeak. Someone was pacing on a tile floor in wet shoes. Snore, beep, squeak, rustle. Who was sitting to his--beep, snore, rustle, squeak--left? Snore, rustle, squeak, beep. Speak, rustle, beep, snore. Now that--squeak, rustle--all these noises--snore, beep--were heard the irritation in--rustle, snore--his unconscious mind--beep, squeak--was _very_ high. Really even in his--squeak, snore--dreaming head the noises--snore, rustle--were annoying him. Rustle, squeak, snore, beep…

Slowly, he opened his eyes. The room was brighter than he expected it to be. His eyes snapped shut as quickly as humanly possible against the florescent light.

"Mng." He groaned. Beep, snore, squeak, rustle.

"Did ya 'ear tha'?"

_Arthur?_

"_Oui_."

_Francis?_

"Mng?! Meh? Wha's wrong?"

_Alfred too?_

"Mathieu? Are you awake?"

"Mm… Papa?" He risked opening his eyes again. Instead of France, he saw America leaning over him. "Alfred?"

"Who did this t' you?!" The American furiously yelled, gripping his brother's hand.

"Get off him! Give him some space to breathe!" France shoved America out of the way.

"Both'a ya, stop it." England forced the two of them back to their seats. Beep. Canada shifted, trying to see where the Hell he was and what was making that noise. "You're in a 'ospital boy." Arthur gently patted his leg.

"W-Where?" His voice rasped. When did he go to the hospital? As he tried to sit up the terrible memory of Gilbert's abuse came back. Along with the memory was a flood of pain as all his nerves burst into life. He slumped back down to bed, all three of the blondes shifting forward slightly to make sure he was alright. They all sighed in unison as they assessed that he was alright.

His face was sore and swollen, his nose broken and left cheek torn slightly. A great black bruise in the shape of a spread hand covered most of his neck, it was especially dark where the fingertips had dug in. There were bruises from the kicks to his ribs and pain when he breathed in from the fractured and broken ones. The bullet wound and wrecked hand worried him the most despite the numerous bandages his head was wrapped in. They were so extensive, in fact, that he couldn't see out of his right eye.

"Don't try t' speak. You're in onna my hospitals. Who did this? You say the word and their ass is nuked!" America wasn't just angry he was totally furious! He jumped up from his seat in his moment of enthusiasm.

"No! No, please, no bombs." Matthew pleaded through his pained throat.

"Leave it to you to start making threats at a time like this." France growled.

"Both'a you twats jus' shuh up!"

"You're the one who's yelling!" America and France ganged up on England as Canada's headache pounded away in his temples, between his eyes and in the back.

"Please, all of you quiet down. My head really hurts." His raspy and meek voice was barely audible. The three blondes looked to Matthew then.

"Really. Ain't you two as angry 'bout this as I am? If you're not, shame on you! My little brother is--"

"Al, please shut up." Canada pleaded as Alfred's "quiet" voice was really only a decibel lower than it usually was.

"Matt, please tell me who did this." America pleaded.

"Don't you think Arthur and I are just as offended as you America? He's our own son! Right mother?" France turned to England.

"Shuh up ya soddin' frog… I 'ate ta admit it though. Consider 'ow we feel abou' 'is too Alfred." Matthew sighed. At least his parents cooled off their fight recently.

"_Please_, all of you… My head is the _definition_ of pain right now." He pleaded as his "family" all took seats around his bed. Speaking was painful too, he found out. His throat was utterly killing him, his jaw to boot and each breath caused pain in his ribs.

"Okay Mathieu." Francis said quietly as he brushed a piece of hair behind his "son's" ear. The bandages wrapped about his head made this difficult but Francis made it work. "So, as best you can, dear Mathieu, please tell us what happened." Canada was surprised by France's mellow attitude, he was so gentle and… Not perverted… It was refreshing he decided. England seemed to notice too, but kept his attention on Matthew.

"Well…" What was he supposed to say? He half-supposed he deserved what Gilbert had done to him. But they were friends and he should've at least gone easy on him… _Do you really believe that?_ "I… Can't remember…"

"C'mon Mattie! Think hard!" America encouraged, gripping Matthew's arm.

"Ah!" Immediately America released his brother's arm as he winced away from him. It was badly bruised from being tossed like a rag doll down the stairs.

"I'm sorry." Alfred folded his hands in his lap, remembering to be more careful of him in the future.

"I-It's okay." Matthew assured him as bolts of pain still bounced throughout his body like so many ADHD five-year-olds. "Uh… Before I go on, how did you know I was hurt?" Really, _how_?

"I received an anonymous call at about… 9:30 yesterday morning. They told me you'd freeze to death if I didn't go to your house outside of Ivujivik. I was too frantic to try to figure out whose voice it was… I didn't expect to find you passed out in a pool of blood, naked, in a freezing cold house…" Francis's face betrayed his utter hatred for whoever it was that had done this. On the inside he was a veritable cauldron of anger and rage that was just begging for something to get in its way. England just looked totally disgusted… There was that feeling again… That feeling of warmth in Matthew's chest these people were angry on his behalf… But Gilbert…

_Gilbert… No, Prussia… Definitely Gilbert…_ Prussia would've let him die. How badly had his country been hurt?! Had his country been hurt? Had their fight been Canada fighting Prussia or Gilbert Beilschmidt beating on Matthew Williams…? What about when Lovino shot him or when he shot Lovino? Had the nations been harmed then? What would've happened if just Matthew Williams had died from Gilbert Beilschmidt beating him up? Would another Canada be born? Was he, as a person, so easy to replace? He started crying.

"Oh Mathieu, if it's too painful to think about now you can tell us later, it's okay." Francis dabbed the tears from the blonde's eye's with a kerchief he pulled from his pocket.

"No, no it's not that… It's something else."

"Oh, won't you tell Papa _mon cher_?" Francis crooned as Arthur observed. Even Alfred didn't care about Matthew's behavior. He was America for God's sake! He was the hero! He had to be supportive! He must not push his brother to say more than he was comfortable with… For all he knew a lover had beaten him into that state, what other reason would he have to be naked with another around…

"I-It's fine… Uhm…" Matthew sniffled and looked to Alfred and then to Arthur. "I-I…" Now was time for another lie… "I can't remember who… But… I was taking a shower, I had some hot water left after the power went out and… After I got out I was kinda dizzy and it didn't seem odd that someone was at the house with me… But I don't know who they were…"

"Wait, wait! You often have housemates?" Alfred asked, really confused, as far as he knew, Matthew lived completely alone… Also as far as he knew, himself and Cuba were his only visitors. Neither of them were very frequent either. Matthew's eyebrow twitched.

"You _know_ Prussia practically lived with me before the war."

"Prussia?!" Francis and Arthur yelled in unison, causing Matthew to clamp his hands over his ears painfully to block out the noise that increased the dull roar headache to a shrill scream. Tears pricked his eyes again.

"Shh-shh. It's okay." Alfred attempted to console him, actually whispering for the first time in his life. Matthew batted his hand away and wiped his own tears away with the sheet he was naked beneath.

"Yes, Prussia and I are very good friends. He practically lived with me before the whole mess over in Europe with the Spanish-Italiano war. He stopped visiting over two years ago though since he felt like he had to help his brother. I assume he forgot about me and we haven't spoken since." Half-lie and only at the end…

"Wow… You were friends with Gilbert… You're such a sweet boy Mathieu." Francis smiled at him. America thought and thought but couldn't seem to remember anything about Mattie and Prussia being friends… England now didn't look so amazed that they were friends now that he had a chance for it to sink in… Matthew was a very kind and accepting person, generally.

"Sorry Mattie, I can't remember nuthin' 'bout that…" Matthew managed a painful snort and went back to his story.

"Well, it didn't seem odd to me to have a housemate… And… And… They yelled my name and grabbed my neck… They threw me into the hallway and I… I think I…" He reached back to where his head had hit the banister that probably needed to be repaired now.

"You 'it your 'ead?" Arthur supplied. Matthew managed a jerky nod, surprised by how much it hurt.

"But while I was on the floor they kicked me a few times… I remember some yelling and I think I might've said something but I don't remember what. There's a blank up until they used my hair to throw me headfirst down the stairs…" The three of them winced, Francis even gasped. The pain wasn't the most prominent thing in _his_ memory though, it was Gilbert's face. Unbridled anger and unimaginable hurt warring in his eyes… But what could he have done? If he _had_ told him what he had done what else would've happened? Their friendship would've never rekindled… But then maybe this loss wouldn't have hurt so much… His chest felt constricted, it was his own fault they weren't friends anymore. His voice quavered with unshed tears as he started speaking again "They walked down after me after I was on the floor and they…. I can't remember, I think that's when my ribs broke… Then… Just nothing… I'm here with my crazy family."

"Where'd th' bullet wound come from? Wot 'appened to yer 'and?" Arthur asked as he motioned to the hole in Matthew's shoulder… He'd forgotten about that…

"Well… Romano and I had a small fight a few days ago…" He tried to explain.

"Whoy 'aven't ya gone to th' doctor about it yet?"

"I didn't think it was a problem…"

"You 'ave a bullet wound ya loony! Yer finger's nearly off!"

"Uhm… Well… You see… I guess it wasn't really a _minor_ fight… I sorta pissed him off and he pulled a gun… And you can guess where it went after that. He left after I managed to get him in his arm. I was losing blood so I didn't go after him. The ice-storm hit then so I was snowed in. I don't hold anything against him and I _know_ it wasn't him that did this to me…"

"You're too kind, sweet Mathieu, do you want Papa to take care of him?" At this suggestion the other three blondes looked at France and glared pointedly at him. England and America especially.

"Ya realize ya sodding frog, tha' if ya attack Romano tha' _we_ will retaliate right?" England reminded him. France glared hard back at them they were still hung up about that whole attacking Italy thing? He growled and met England's eyes. They glared especially hard at one another and snorted, each looking away from the other. Matthew and Alfred sighed in unison, Mom and Dad were fighting again.

"Please stop fighting. I know it's a lot to ask but if you're going to fight don't do it here." Arthur and Francis looked over their shoulder's at one another at this point before looking away again and turning their noses into the air.

"If 'e grows up a bi', maybe."

"I will if he-"

"You're both acting like children. Please, sit down and shut up." The two nations, and America, turned to look at him. Matthew looked so exhausted and pitiful then, nearly every inch of him in some sort of wrap.

"Okay." The two replied in unison and sat back down in their chairs.

"Nice job Mattie." America held up his hand for a high-five. Matthew left him hanging and groped the bed for a white, fluffy fuzz-ball…

"Where's Kumakuro?"

"Your bear?" Alfred asked for confirmation, pretty sure that wasn't the bear's name…

"Yeah…"

"Uh… I didn't see him anywhere…"

"You left him alone in my house! It's freezing cold over there!" Yelling hurt his head, it hurt his throat and his jaw, his chest and ribs too… It perhaps wasn't worth the pain, but his brother forgot his pet!

"And he's a polar bear! I think he can handle it!" America yelled back, causing Canada to wince back.

"Well he still doesn't have anything to eat…"

"Fine I'll go get him." America stood and brushed off, he took his coat from the doorknob and pulled it on before turning back to regard Matthew. "I'll see you when I get back…" He looked to Francis and Arthur then. "Mom, make sure Dad behaves." He was out the door faster than a speeding bullet as England began to open his mouth.

"You litt-"

"Mother…" Francis interrupted and stood.

"Ya call me tha' jus' one more time…"

"I have things I have to do…" He turned to look at Matthew then. "Is there anything you want? I'll be coming back later." Canada thought for a moment but arrived at nothing after wanting Kumajiro, he stiffly shook his head. "Alright if you say so." He leaned down and gently kissed his cheek before turning to leave. "Keep our little lovechild entertained while I'm gone mother~!" And he was out the door nearly as fast as America had been, leaving Arthur alone with Matthew.

Arthur looked to his son who he frequently forgot existed and sighed. "Wif family loike us 'oo needs ta _wait_ for the circus ta come ta town?" Matthew chuckled lightly with the man, acknowledging that this was indeed true. "So ueh… Did I ever tell you about 'is thing we 'ave in my country called Extreme Ironing?"

---

Knock, knock, knock.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Francis heard beyond the door of the East Berlin home. The door was yanked open and a distinctly harried Prussia looked out at him, he obviously hadn't been out of bed yet and there was a fine layer of nearly transparent stubble on his chin. "Vhat do you vant France?" Uh oh… Wasn't France Matthew's dad or something?

"Why didn't you ever tell me you were friends with Mathieu?" Gilbert stiffened at this question, he was sure this loser was going to try to beat his ass now.

"It nefer came up." He replied truthfully. Francis sighed and crossed his arms, he had a long-suffering look on his face.

"Do you still care about him?" What _was_ the correct answer here? Damn Frenchmen and their mind games! Did he suspect Gilbert of attacking Matthew? Or had the stupid boy remained quiet on who exactly had done the beating? Did _he_ even know if he still cared about the boy? Sure, yes, he had done something stupid and chosen to lie about it… But… The man had always chosen to put up with Gilbert after everything else he had done… _Oh goddammit…._

"If you're asking if ve're schtill fruends, ve hevn'd schpoken in a vhile…"

"Yes, that's what Mathieu said." Why was Francis even here? "Well… I'm just here to tell you think in case you want to know. Mathieu is in the hospital. He's really banged up and I think he could use a friend right now… Arthur, Alfred and I were there but we're his family."

"He's vhere?" Gilbert asked narrowing his eyes. "Vhat happent?"

"Someone attacked him. He can't remember who. If you still are his friend I suggest you go and see him." Francis flipped his hair and turned around, walking off of Gilbert's stoop.

"Vaid! Vas dat ahll?"

"_Oui_. I have things I have to do before going back to the hospital. Oh, wait I forgot to give you the address. It's in America, but transportation's never a problem for us." Francis whipped out a pen and a pad of paper from the inside of his jacket and scribbled down the address of the hospital as well as its' phone number and Matthew's room. "Here." He walked back up the stoop and held the daintily folded paper out to Gilbert. The Prussian accepted it without word. "Also, since I probably won't see you in the next couple of days Gilbert, merry Christmas." France turned from Prussia before he could reply and stalked off.

"Merry… Nng, fuck it." Gilbert slammed his door shut and locked it. He looked at the paper in hand and unfolded it, true to his word Francis had given him all the information he would need to see Matthew… And for whatever reason Matthew hadn't ratted him out… But maybe all those blows to the head had just screwed with his memory… A deep growl issued from his chest and he ground his teeth. "Dammid." He hurriedly went back to his bedroom and stood in the doorway of it. "Hey! Feliciano. Vant to goh schopping vid me?" The small Italian stirred tiredly, he had been asleep off and on since Gilbert had brought him to Berlin. Occasionally he would cry out as a nightmare gripped him but there was little he could do for the boy. His condition was bad and Gilbert knew all too well how it would only get worse… Maybe, if he was lucky… No, Prussia hadn't died, he'd been dissolved, it was different. When Italy died, it would be the end for Feliciano. The personality itself did not exist if the country died, even for the distinct. If the personality died though, the country was reborn in a new body. He secretly knew who Matthew was pleading to. Matthew had been the first of them all to admit the difference between personality and nation. Gilbert knew it existed too, why when Prussia was dissolved he was left to his own mind and survived… Italy though, knew no such distinction, he _could_ not know such distinction as there was none with him as there was none with Germany or America or even France. He suspected others knew of this distinction, but if they did they weren't admitting it.

"Where are we going?" Feliciano asked weakly.

"Flowver schopping."

"In December?"

"Ve cahn talk on de vay dere. You sait you hat to tell Ludwig someding. Gedding up und mofing vill be goot for you too." Italy cutely groaned and forced himself up, Gilbert thought it hilarious that the both of them preferred to sleep naked. Italy was a cuddler too even when having a nightmare. Last night had been awkward but he wasn't feeling the usual jokes…

"Okay, give me a few minutes."

"Keep up." Gilbert warned as snow began to fall and the young Italian lagged behind. It was only a few blocks to the nearest florist.

"Ve! I'm sorry. I'm just really tired."

"I know, I unterschtant."

"Oh, you do?"

"I'fe been close to dead soh many times I cahn'd cound."

"Oh… I can… On one hand!" How was it possible Italy still sounded so damn cheerful? Happy Tomato Box Fairy indeed.

"Cound yourselv lucky den." He shifted the grey scarf about his neck to better cover the bottoms of his ears, after being cold for three days straight he hated this dreadful weather. Feliciano seemed to be enjoying it though, as he walked with his mouth turned to the sky to catch falling flakes. Gilbert rounded the corner and pulled open the door to the florist, the bell rang and he ushered Feliciano inside. The keep looked to them and greeted them warmly before going back to whatever it was he had been doing.

The small floral shop was simply awash with color and a pleasant warmth. It was decorated for Christmas and it even had that annoyingly cheery music playing.

"Waaah! All these pretty flowers! Look at them all! And so many different colors!" Gilbert couldn't help but smile as Feliciano enthusiastically flitted from one arrangement to the next. Gilbird cheeped and poked his fuzzy, little head out of Gilbert's great scarf. Now that Gilbert thought about it, hadn't Canada given him this thing for Christmas years go? He groaned and walked over to the bouquets of roses, ones with deep red coloring were the most common, but he found the ones he was looking for. The petals were yellow with orange edges. He then noticed Feliciano looking at the many different bouquets of red.

"Feliciano. Vhat vas it you vantet to talk to Ludwig aboud?" He picked up the roses and looked to Italy.

"Uhm… What do red roses mean over here?" The smaller man asked absentmindedly as if he had never heard the question.

"Dey ahre a declaration of lof of course…"

"Oh…" Italy just stared at a large dozen of red roses.

"Italy, ve talkt aboud dis aht de hospidal nod too long ago… Bud you nefer gafe me a conclusife answer. Do you lof my bruder?"

"Yes…" Italy admitted, reaching for a bouquet of the reddest roses there. Gilbert sighed and stayed his hand, plucking the bouquet of roses into his arms next to the ones he picked out for Canada.

"Ist dat vhat you came hier for?" Gilbert moved along to look for something else to send to his (thanks to him) bedridden friend.

"Well…" Italy followed after him. "I wanted to come say that I was sorry for the whole… Well, divorce that's causing so much trouble right now…"

"_Ja_ I hort de nuvs aboud de rioding ofer in your coundry… Dey say your halv of de coundry istn'd doing soh vell…" He didn't need to hear rumors to know how true that was. One look at the small man screamed how unwell his state was. "Ahre you hier to plead him to take you back?" Prussia stared down at a box of maple cookies… They were cutely shaped like maple leaves…

"No, I can't ask him for that… I just want him to forgive me… And I want him to know how I feel before I… Before I…"

"You don'd hev to say it…" He slipped the box of cookies underneath his arm and pulled a blank card from his empty pocket along with a pen.

"What did _you_ want to talk to him about?" Gilbert sighed as he produced a clipboard from nowhere.

"Jus' aboud someding I dink he hes forgotten ofer de years." He began scribbling something down on the blank card. "Vell, maybe less ofer de years und jus' forgodden." He finished his neat scrawls and clicked the pen closed. "Oh, dit you vant a cart for dese?" Gilbert motioned to the red roses in the crook of his arm.

"No, I'll deliver them personally." The man cheerily smiled at the other, sure that it would go over well… Despite the open threat Ludwig had apparently issued…

"If you say soh…" Gilbert wandered around the store a little bit longer, wondering if the cookies and flowers were enough.

_You kicked his ass to within an inch of his life, it doesn't matter how fucking awesome you are, I doubt cookies and flowers cover it._ Prussia groaned and scratched at his hair, he was definitely not cut out for this whole apologizing thing. At long last, he decided there was nothing else for him to do and headed for the counter.

On his way, something caught his eye, with a smirk he plucked it from its spot and added it to his items. Feliciano cheerily followed him up to the counter. It was a good thing that the albino had offered to pay because Feliciano had forgotten to mention that he didn't know where his wallet had gotten off to.

---

Three, three countries had been in and out of his territory today and he hadn't left his home to even say hello to them. Well, one of them was obviously Gilbert as his presence was only lightly felt. Ludwig had no idea who the other two were though. Whoever they were, they had been wondering around Berlin for most of the morning. One of them, Gilbert, had left at some point before noon but his presence came back before too long. It was now well passed noon.

There was a loud barking from the great German shepherd booming throughout the house. The other two soon joined her and the trio enthusiastically ran past Germany's office door.

Curious, Germany lifted an eyebrow and stood, he was grateful he didn't have to wear this damn sling after a couple more days. There was a knock to the door then as he walked out into the hallway. The dog's barking intensified and they jumped excitedly at the door. They never did that for Gilbert… Grinding his teeth together at the only other person it could be he prepared to punch the living Hell out of him for _daring_ set foot in Germany.

The door flew open in front of Italy, standing behind it was exactly what he thought he would see… He flinched back as Germany was putting on a pair of leather gloves, his eyes closed in what Italy could only describe as unbridled anger.

"G--G-G-Germany! He-Hello, th-th-this is I-I--"

"Vhat ahre you doing hier?!" The blonde yelled, his eyes totally skipping over the dozen of red roses Italy was holding out to him.

"E-Eh-… _L-L'amore e una b-bellissima rosa rossa donata senza u-una ragione apparente._" His voice slipped from the familiar tongue of English to its' original one… Sadly, the one Germany couldn't understand. Not knowing his mistake, he thrust the flowers out at him.

"Vhat de… Ist dis some kint ov joke?!" The German harshly swatted the bouquet aside and out of Italy's hands. The smaller man squeaked fearfully and took a few steps back.

"N-No! I-I-I…" Italy threw himself at the blonde then, taking advantage of the useless arm in the sling, it wasn't enough though as Germany grabbed him firmly about the neck. He squeezed and watched Italy squirm.

"Vhat vere you trying to accomplisch dere?" Germany asked with plenty of sneer in his voice. The grip his left hand had on the brunette's neck tightened and Italy squealed again, thrashing ever harder. His hands clawed at the leather clad ones but he knew he had no hope of prying the strong fingers away in his weakened state.

"You look terriple. Vhat ahre you efen doing oud of bett?" Italy made a motion for Germany to release his throat, he couldn't breathe. Briefly, Germany tightened his hand, digging his fingers into Italy's jugular before releasing him and throwing him to the ground. "Ditn'd your bruder tell you I voult kill you if you efer came back hier?"

Italy tried to stop his coughing fit, sucking down as much air as he could in as short a time as possible. He sniffled and wiped his eyes before standing back up. Germany fidgeted in place as Italy turned his eyes on him, those eyes that said everything… Italy shuffled up to the man in front of him and reached out to grab his shirt sleeve.

"Don'd touch me!" Germany jerked his arm away from him, Italy leaned up then and kissed him. Germany froze, everything in his brain screaming at him to shove the Italian away, but everything everywhere _else _telling him the exact opposite.

In the end his brain won out, Germany inserted a hand between the two as Italy moved to wrap his arms around the taller man. He shoved him back, causing Italy to stumble and about fall off the front steps of his stoop. The anger on Germany's face was only intensified by the embarrassed blush on his face, it could've been interpreted as an angered flush… He hoped to God that's what it looked like. Swiftly, he looked around his house, grateful no human was around to witness _that_. He turned his face back to Italy and glared once again.

"I don'd know vhat de Hell dat vas, bud _nefer_ do it again. Unterschtant me?" The smaller man sniffled and wiped his eyes.

"I love you Ludwig."

"V-Vhat?"

"You might just think I'm lying… Because I know it's obvious that I'm dying again… But I'm not asking you to take me back. I just wanted you to know before I died. Okay?" Germany, completely speechless and dumbstruck, did nothing as Feliciano leaned up and kissed him again. The brunette then kneeled down and picked up the ragged bouquet of roses and dusted them off, maybe Gilbert wouldn't mind them.

"I-Italy…"

"Yes?" He hopefully looked up from the flowers to the icy steel of Ludwig's blue eyes.

"Ged ovf my porch." Feliciano winced back away from him. So it really had been a lost cause… "I svear dat if you efer… Kiss… Me again," A slight pause for a well-disguised, shaky breath. "I von'd jus kill you, your bruder is ahs goot as annihiladet ahs vell." More tears and sniffles from Italy, Germany was only confused… He did not understand his feelings, what one doesn't understand is feared and when you fear something you often hate it… He hated Italy for these confusing feelings he had never known… But what about on Valentine's day those years ago? Were his feelings any different now? This confused him even more as he could not comprehend what made things feel so different now… He knew he would give Italy anything if only he asked… So, why now did he feel it in the very pit of his stomach to deny him now and hate him?

Italy had not moved from his spot and was crying into the bouquet, hopefully adequately hiding his face from Germany.

"Goh now bevore somevon sees you." Ludwig slammed the door and stalked back to his office. He heaved a frustrated breath, his chest hurt and his heart's incessant pounding only served to fluster him more. Italy had said he loved him, but he had no idea how to feel about it. Hate boiled in his gut but something else was there… It acted like bile to fats, emulsifying the hate into smaller, more manageable pieces… What if he didn't hate Italy at all? What if…

"Oi! _Westen!_ Your awesome bruder hes returnt!" The voice of Prussia rang through the house… Gilbert still had to talk to him about something… Quickly he calmed himself down as his brother swaggered down the hall and into his office. The man had a package of sorts uner his arm, Ludwig vaguely wondered what was inside of it. Knowing Gilbert though, he was going to find out.

"_Osten_, goot to see you back." Ludwig shifted uncomfortably in his chair and readjusted his arm too.

"Gread to see I'm back too." The albino smirked haughtily. He then tossed the box onto the desk, it made a dull thumping noise as his face suddenly grew serious. "Do you know vhat dese ahre?" The blonde reached for it and flipped the box open.

"Dey look like ledders…" Indeed they did, Each written with care upon ancient slips of paper, each signed with the same name each addressed to "my dear brother".

"Do you know who wrode dem?" Gilbert crossed his legs and laced his fingers together as Ludwig picked up a letter and read it.

"Your bruder… Holy Roman Empire…" Germany stared at the letter, each of them were signed with this name… "I wrode dese… A very long time ago." Prussia nodded, a smirk plastering itself to his face. "I alreaty _know _I ust to be him… Vhy do you bring dis up now?"

"Because… I am bedding dat you don'd remember efen halv of vhat you send me."

"Vhy dit you keep my ledders?" Germany paused for a moment to reconsider that question. "His ledders."

"_Your_ ledders bruder. Und I kepd dem to remint myselv dat I hat a liddle bruder vaiding for me to come back.

"I somehow doubd dat you hat de sense of mint for such a schveed sentimend."

"Says de man dat forgod his whole chilthoot…" Germany averted his eyes and pretended to re-read the letter.

"Some of it's coming back…" He defended himself weakly.

"Und vhat exacdly hes?" Gilbert was truly interested in this, Ludwig so rarely talked about this sort of thing with him.

"Flowvers… Und a girl." That caught Prussia's attention.

"You ovden spoke of a girl in you ledders… Hier." Gilbert searched around in the box and pulled a letter out, it was crinkled and smudged in some parts.

"Vhy ahre you doing dis _now_ _Osten_?"

"Because I feel dat it ist importand dat you rememper." Gilbert held out the letter to Ludwig. The German reluctantly took it and looked it over. The handwriting was as sloppy as any child's but there was obvious care taken.

_My Dear Brother,_

_I feel the need to ask you something, Roderich and Elizaveta won't answer me. What is it called when_--There were scribbles at this point.--_I think I might love her. But I can't say. I do not know what love feels like and I am young._

_I had a dream last night, it was of the two of us when we are older. I wonder if she will be that beautiful in the future, I hope I get to see her when she is that old… I will see her, I know it. We will marry once the new empire has grown strong and I can support her!_

_Is the constant thought of someone love or obsession? What about the thought of them always makes you smile? I've been smiling a lot lately. I know this is short but I have to stop now. I asked Italy to teach me how to paint. She's so good at it. I always want her near me…_

_Your brother,_

_Holy Roman Empire_

_P.S. I am doing well, all things considered, there is some unrest in the house but it should die down before much longer._

"I… Italy?" Ludwig stared at the note, utterly shocked. Gilbert was only smirking at him. "H-Hes Italy diet bevore und I…" He did not finish, he knew this to be not the case with total certainty. The Italy the writer was in love with was the same Italy he had threatened to kill for kissing him… "I…" _Italy had said his first love was… Was I? Was I… He… I his first love?_ "Bruder… Vhy dit you pick now of ahll times again?"

"Because… I'm awesome und jus hev gread timing…"

"Vhy do you schow me dese ledders vhen you know dat--"

"I dink you ahre being schtupit ist vhy. It hesn'd efen been dree days und Italy is dying again… He's bat Ludwig… Feliciano vill be deat before my birdtay aht dis rade."

"Dat's an exaggeration… Vhen dit you ged a birdtay anyvay?" Gilbert scratched his head, finding it odd that he knew what his birthday was, he shrugged in the end.

"Sometime in de laschd two monds."

"Vas it Cana--"

"_Westen_ do nod make dis aboud me. Dough I voult lof for you to only talk aboud me, now ist nod de time to be schpeaking of my awesomeness."

"Do you assume dat I hev nod grown up any? Do you say I schtill _am_ de Holy Roman Empire?"

"I'm saying dat… Dat…" Uh-oh… Gilbert was about to say something meaningful… "Dat maybe it's nod mere luck dat broughd you two back togeder in your prefious vars togeder… Dat mate Italy fall in lof vid you… _Again_."

"Do only _his_ feelings madder hier Gilbert? Vhat aboud how _I_ feel? It voult appear to me dat our… Romance… Diet bevore it began a long time ag--" Gilbert snatched up another letter and held it out to him. "Vhat ist dis von?"

"Jus reat it." After what the last letter had done to his nerves Ludwig had plenty of reason to not want to read it… Shakily, he took the letter from his brother's hand and read it.

_My Dear Brother,_

_I'm going off to war, so I guess I'll see you soon. Italy_--The scribbles appeared again in this letter.--_We kissed… I wish that I could go back and do it again. I miss her already and want to hear her voice. I don't like you calling me names I don't understand so stop. The ones I do know I'm not sure what they have to do with me._

_She gave me her panties. It's kind of embarrassing when people catch me looking at them. I remember something I wrote to you months and months ago. I promised her too that I would come back to her sometime. No matter what happens, I won't die. I will come back to her and we will get married and be happy… I can only hope that she will still love me as I will always love her._

_You probably don't understand me as you don't seem to like emotions like this and you even claim to not have them. Whatever, if we don't meet on the battlefield I miss you brother and hope to see you soon._

_Your Brother,_

_Holy Roman Empire_

Germany did not know what to say… He could not speak… Slowly his hand curled in on itself and his other hand too. They both created tight fists. The letter crinkled into an insignificant ball in the blonde's powerful hand.

"_Westen_, be carevul dose dings ahre olt."

"Ged oud of my haus."

"Vhat?" Ludwig slowly rose from his chair, casting the note aside. He did not want this, not now. Not after all the trouble Romano had put him through. Not after worrying for Feliciano's safety for no reason. Not after his fucking help in the war against Spain and France. He just wanted to be fucking alone.

"I sait ged oud of my haus!"

"Make me!" The lamp on Ludwigs desk was up and in the air before Gilbert could even jump up from his seat. "_Scheiße!" _Gilbert flipped the chair over backwards to avoid the lamp to his face and quickly jumped to his feet once it flew overhead. "Vhat de fuck ist wrong vid you?!" A book slammed into his face.

"You vill eider leaf _now_ Prussia or I vill be forct to_'make you_' leaf." There was that chilling power his brother had once again. The ex-nation couldn't stand up to the power of Germany, but Gilbert had the right to complain about this to Ludwig.

"Ludwig you're being chiltisch. Vhy cahn'd you--" He barely managed to move in time as Germany's left hand buried itself in the wall, even his inferior hand had enough power to go through the wall. Rather than get his ass kicked by the one-handed man, Gilbert thought it a perfectly good idea to listen to his frustrated brother then. "Okay, I'll leaf. Bud reat some of dose… Italy ist dying und you're going to be de cause of it."

"_Fick dich, Schwein!"_

"_Ludwig_!!" Had his brother really said that to him?! He really wasn't fucking around, Gilbert ground his teeth and actually fled from his little brother for the first time in his life.

After he the door had slammed behind himself, Gilbert snorted angrily and slumped against the door. His eyes traveled south, towards the man that had started all this nonsense… No, Romano was not directly in front of him, but he could almost see him. Hear him scream as he begged for mercy at his hands. This was Romano's fault, all of it. That single man had caused no end of pain for everyone involved in this… Gilbert suddenly remembered Francis. He seemed angry, he was stiff and worried when he came to him this morning… Romano had even managed to affect Francis… England and America too who had no idea this fight between the Germans and Italians was going on… His thoughts drifted to Canada then… Would any of this have gotten this far if Canada hadn't been helping Romano? He couldn't hate Matthew for being loyal and wanting to help… But he could hate Romano for giving the order…

Gilbert stood up straight and started walking, he was heading south.

-----

Notes:

Beep--This is the sound of the electrocardiogram if you were wondering.

Oui--Yes

Mon cher--My darling

Extreme Ironing--"The latest danger sport that combines the thrills of an extreme outdoor activity with the satisfaction of a well-pressed shirt.", it exists, I swear.

L'amore e una bellissima rosa rossa donata senza una ragione apparente.--Love is a beautiful red rose given for no reason.

Scheiße--Shit (basically)

Fick dich, Schwein--Fuck you, swine! (special note about this one, from what I understand Schwein is a very severe curse word [strangely schwein haben means to be lucky] so please do not use it if you ever find yourself in a situation otherwise I would feel bad teaching you guys some of these words. Apparently you can even get in trouble with the law for using this in public.)

Special note about the panties thing in the letter. If you have only ever seen the anime and have not read the chibitalia strips of the web comic, in the original web comic Italy pulls off a pair of his panties and gives them to Holy Roman Empire before he leaves. Funnily enough, Italy later gets Germany a pair of boxers for Christmas one year XD

Wow those notes were kinda long… But yeah, here we are, for people not paying attention this chapter was pretty damn important. Also, I swear I did not mean to add in the mind-fucks about distinct personality versus nation. It just happened somehow or another. I think too much is a big problem as well XD but whatever. As always I need reviews to help along my muse. For you people that are screaming at me to conclude this story and see how it ends faster, review please.

P.S. Did anyone catch the Monty Python reference?

_Edit_

Accents fixed, spelling, some grammar and it was slightly extended.


	14. Aftermath XIV Slow

Already at fourteen, wow… It seems like just last week I had initially posted this story. Well XD a lot has changed in a month obviously. I'll stop my needless blatherings now.

-----

Italy rolled over in Gilbert's bed. He hoped Germany wouldn't follow him, which he thankfully hadn't. Really, he still worried that the man was going to come through Prussia's front door at anytime now but… He just didn't want to go home. Home meant Romano yelling at him, his doctor poking and prodding him every five minutes… Home meant riots and an unstable government that would literally be the death of him. Home right now just meant problems. Why couldn't home mean a loving place anymore, like it used to? A place where you will be accepted no matter what and problems could be forgotten for awhile…

_Ludwig_. He sighed tiredly, his back was throbbing again. _Ludwig is my home._

---

"Dis'll schow de baschtart…" Prussia smirked to himself, he was standing at the Austro-Italian boarder. Deep down, somewhere in the reptilian part of his brain he knew this wasn't a good idea. That same part of his brain drove him mercilessly forward towards his goal. It felt good to have some sort of purpose. Even if it was going to make matters worse for some people. For others though! Others like say… Himself and Ludwig it would make things better. He stepped over the boarder and headed for Rome.

---

"Mr. Williams?" Matthew rolled over in his hospital bed to regard the nurse as she spoke to him. He hadn't fallen asleep at all since initially waking up to all that noise around six. It was 7:30 or so by now. France hadn't returned yet, England had left to get himself something to eat and after America dropped off his ball of fuzz he had to leave again to meet with his boss. He hugged Kumajiro tightly to him as the bear quietly slept.

"Yes?" The nurse looked to the bear disbelievingly, who kept a bear as a pet?! And what was an animal doing in here anyway?! She let it slide as it was obvious the thing would've never gotten in if it hadn't been allowed.

"A man, he didn't stay long I'm afraid, asked for these to be delivered to you." Tiredly, Matthew looked to the vase in her hands. A dozen of yellow and orange-rimmed roses gleamed back at him and in the center was a thirteenth rose of red. An eyebrow curiously rose up his forehead.

"Who're they from?" The arrangement was beautiful, but he was confused as to who would send it as England, France and America had already expressed their worries and well-wishes.

"He didn't leave a name, but he _did_ leave a card. Oh! And some cookies too." The nurse sat the vase down on the table next to the bed, along with a box of maple leaf-shaped cookies.

"Oh… Can I see the card?" She held out a plain, white, folded card. He read the simple black handwriting on the outside.

_You're Awesome_

His lips twitched as he knew who it was from that single line. He nearly didn't finish reading the rest of the card and considered throwing the flowers away… Considering who it was that was trying to apologize though, he read on. The inside of the card held a small paragraph in simple black ink and an idle doodle of Gilbird at the end…

_Canada, what happened between us is something that I regret and I regret few things I have done. To express my thanks for not telling France, here are tokens of my appreciation. I bare you no further ill-will as you were being loyal to a person you promised to help. No matter what side of this you are on no one should be punished for following orders. I hope in the future you will choose to extend this gift of amnesty to me as well. ~Prussia_

_P.S. I swear I didn't eat any of the cookies._

It was rather arrogant of Prussia to assume that Canada was willing to forgive him at all let alone any time soon. But wasn't it typical of Prussia to be rather lovably arrogant? Canada sighed and decided that the card was sincere enough. Gilbert never apologized if he didn't mean it. Hell, the man close to never apologized even when he knew he should. This of course was the main reason he never apologized for any of his practical jokes. Really they were only jokes, things not to be taken seriously and therefore had need not be apologized for.

Matthew looked to the box of cookies and smiled, they were so cutely shaped. They probably were maple flavored too by the look of things. It took tons of willpower on Gilbert's part most likely not to eat them.

"I'm fine for now if you don't want to stay around miss." He smiled as best he could at her and she nodded.

"Let a nurse know if you need anything." She smiled and left.

"I will." using his index finger, he pried open the cookie box and pulled out a cookie. It was more like a sandwich cookie than a single entity of baked goodness. The cream in the middle of the two was maple as well. He bit into the soft sweetness and chewed slowly. Gilbert had the strange habit of knowing what made his day, this was something that did. Canada was almost happy the man hadn't changed at all and seemed to know what could cheer the man up… Why was he cheered up?! Gilbert had beaten the living Hell out of him! It hadn't even been two days! Then again, the man had already apologized and he hadn't waited into forever to do it so… Matthew sighed. Even if he was still unsure about seeing Gilbert again so soon he would have to remind himself to thank the man for the cookies. His eyes drifted up to the beautiful flowers. He would have to thank him for those too…

The door opened then. Very surprised by who it was, Matthew about choked on the cookie in his mouth.

"Lovino!" The Italian man refused to look at him, he couldn't, not after what he had done to him… The mere sight of him now was horrible, somehow he felt responsible. Canada meanwhile didn't seem to give a shit. A happy but painful grin was stretching across his face.

"Hi Canada." Lovino had a pot in his ahnds which he held close to him with a thick towel. "I brought this for you. The stupid American doctors tried to stop me, but whatever. Hospital food's nasty."

"What is it?" Matthew sat up straighter and tried to lean forward to get a better look. Tried being the operative word as his body was not allowing and he was without his glasses. Where were his glasses?

"Pasta. I think after what you went through… Well, maybe you deserved something better than hospital food." Lovino seemed so awkward to the Canadian that he couldn't help but let his smile widen.

---

"Vhaddaya mean 'he's nod heir'?! For fuck's sake!" Prussia roared at the confused doctor who had just returned to the house at Romano's order.

"I-I'm sorry sir. Can I take a message?" He stuttered, fixing his glasses. It reminded Prussia of Canada for just a moment.

"Noh you cahn'd take a fuckin' message!" The albino grabbed the collar of the doctor's coat, pulling him towards him and off the ground. "I vas nefer heir. God it!" The man stuttered in response before a few seconds before managing an answer.

"Y-Yessir!" Gilbert released him, letting him drop to the floor. He ground his teeth and stalked off. _That_ wasn't embarrassing at all! Fuck Romano and his business elsewhere, if Prussia was going to invade he by God had better be there!

Carefully, he wove his way through the crowds and rioting humans. They seemed to part around him though many did not even notice he was a nation. Occasionally, Gilbert liked this feeling, the feeling that he was superior to the creatures though he looked the same. They unwittingly submitted to him. Other times he felt as if he just didn't matter, he was sure Canada felt like this at times. The humans knew they had to submit, but none knew who he was.

He shoved a human away from him with his palm in a frustrated gesture. The man he shoved tripped into another and the two began rolling around on the ground, throwing punches, there were bloody noses within seconds.

Gilbert inhaled deeply, he loved the atmosphere and this chaos and longed for it. He needed an escape from the frustrations of the past days events, he wanted to feel powerful again. His fingers twitched as he grew the urge to join in the fun and make someone bleed. He wanted someone to die at his hands as so many did long ago.

"_I somehow doubd dat you hat de sense of mint for such a schveed sentimend."_ The want receded as Ludwig's words reminded him. Gilbert was a nation controlled by his own mind, not by anyone else as he was in the old days. He could say no to all of this and be the bigger person… Just like he could've said no to beating on Canada. A brick flew and crashed into the back of his head, it crumbled into many pieces and fell to the ground as little more than dust. It had to have been thrown by a human seeing as how he wasn't passed out dead on the ground.

"Fuck! Who drew dat?!" He yelled looking behind him into the rioting that swirled back and forth around him like the ocean as the authorities tried to contain the furious humans. No one looked at him, no one cared who was or what he had been like long ago. They knew nothing of him, period. _Damn these pansy emotions of mine…_ These people did not know him and he didn't know them… This was different from hurting Canada or hurting Feliciano, or France, or Spain, or Ludwig! It did not matter who fell at his feet! It did not matter who he fucked into a wall in an enraged frenzy or who he tore apart in a blood-thirsty rage! The chaotic feeling gripped him again as a grin spread across his face, this was Romano's half of the country still, Feliciano had little to worry about…

---

"Really? He did that?" Canada chuckled painfully at a story Romano told him of when Veneziano and he were children.

"Yep, I did too. I don't know, that bastard Spain always thought it was so damn funny. People actually thought he was a girl too!" Lovino snorted and crossed his arms over his chest as Matthew took another bite of the exquisite pasta.

"You guys serious just wore dresses? I bet that was a sight to behold." Another painful chuckle and another bite of food. He was so glad that Lovino was comfortable enough with him to share these stories.

"Didn't I just say we did? God, pay more attention next time you dim-witted maple." There was something funny in his insult, at least Canada thought there was. He chuckled again, a little bit harder and thus a little bit more painful. "What's so funny?!"

"Nothing, nothing. Don't worry about it." He smiled adoringly at the man, hoping he wouldn't notice… Lovino was no stranger to these looks as he had received them from Spain for centuries… His eyes narrowed and he sat back in the chair next to Matthew's bed.

"Is there something wrong with you?" The blonde blinked at him and looked down at himself before looking back to Lovino. "Yeah, yeah I get that Prussia beat the living shit out of you. But what's with that face?"

"My face?" The blonde tipped his head to the side, unsure of what the Italian man meant. "Is something wrong with it?" _Other than you can't see half of it because of these bandages…_

"I guess not. You just gave me a weird look now…" Matthew mentally chastised himself for showing such open… More than friendly affection, why wouldn't Lovino know what that looked like when he had been with Spain since… Since… Damn, what about Spain? He still had the letter… He sighed and decided that maybe it was better he tell the truth as lying to one friend had resulted in a hospital bed.

"Uhm… Lovino?"

"You already have my attention, what?"

"Well… I would like to say something… Uhm, about Spain…" Lovino flinched in his seat before his face flushed in anger.

"Did he say something to you?! Did he threaten you or something? What did he say?!" Now Canada was the confused one… Why would Spain be calling him and threatening him about anything? Yes, he had shot Lovino and his arm had been skinned (a bit more than that but still…) but he was the one who had the most damage done to him.

"He hasn't said anything to me… Should he have by now?" Romano blushed and looked away from him.

"Uh-Uh, no, I guess not…. What was it you had to say then?"

"Uhm…" Matthew was quickly losing his nerve. "You see, about a week and a half ago, you know, when you came up with your plan of what to do… Well, I did find something…" Lovino's brow rose in interest.

"What was it? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I don't know in all honesty why I didn't say anything… It was a letter addressed to you from Spain… I guess I was afraid of you reacting badly to it…" Lovino's temper flared into life.

"React _badly_ from a letter from _him_!? What the fuck Canada!?" That certainly did explain Spain's strange visit not too long ago.

"Shh, shh! One of the nurses might hear you."

"I don't fucking care if the nurses hear me! Why did you do that?!" Romano rose out of his chair and leaned in closer to the taller man in a threatening way.

"I don't know why I did it." Matthew refused to get riled up, if he did his aching body would only hurt more. "I think maybe… At the time I thought… I don't know what I thought…" He cradled his head in his hands for a minute as he waited for a wave of pain to pass. "I do know something though." Matthew reached down to his side and laid a hand on one of Lovino's. He could hear the Italian man breathe in and the hand tense beneath his own.

"And what is that?" Lovino said in his usual disrespectful tone of voice. His throat was tight though, as if he knew what was coming. Canada opened his mouth to speak but found that the words died on his lips. The words he wanted to _actually_ say anyway…

"I am sorry about hiding the truth from you. Especially when it was Spain. When I get out of here, I'll give it to you. I know it doesn't make things any better, but it's a start." Romano scoffed and removed his hand from under Canada's, relieved that the man hadn't said what he thought he was going to.

"Hell yeah it doesn't make things any better you dim-wit. You still _lied_ to me. And you stole something from my house!" It was hard for him to seem this angry. He really didn't feel that strongly about it since it didn't matter anymore. The damage had been and this letter was not going to undo it. Guilt gnawed at his stomach as this realization set in. Did it mean that he didn't love Spain as much as he thought he did? Or was it that he was just numb… Feliciano was dying again and eventually would drag Lovino down with him if someone didn't do something fast. He could talk to England and he could talk to America about this, but he really didn't want to, he was responsible for his brother, no one else. It popped into his mind just then, he had wanted to talk to Canada about his relationship problems… "I'm not sure how I feel about it really. It's irritating that you took the letter from that bastard… Did you read it?" Canada chuckled, his sore ribs chastised him a moment later. "What does that mean?"

"I know it was rather rude of me to take it… But it seemed that if I opened it that it would've been too rude. It's still unopened on my desk in my house in Ottawa."

"Ott… Otta… Where the Hell is that?" Canada stared at him for a moment and sighed, this should've been predicted.

"It's my capital."

"Oh…."

"I can give it back to you when all this is done…" He was pretty sure he had already said that, but it never hurt to restate a promise. Romano considered for a moment whether or not to read it. He had already lied to Spain about being with Canada. But, he still loved him and wanted to hear what the man had to say.

"You better." He mumbled in response. Canada smiled, his face hurt more because of all this smiling. Even when Romano was being rude he had this certain charm about him. What was with him and rude people? He chuckled to himself. His brother was nosey, Gilbert was as perverted as they came and Romano had trust issues which made him rude. Cuba hit him too because he frequently mistook him for Alfred… What was with his taste in friends? He himself was not very rude, well, on the inside he sort of was, but… Maybe he could just get along with everyone. He sighed with a smile on his face.

"What was that about?" Romano asked after Canada sighed.

"Just thinking about important people in my life. You guys are all so… Unique."

"What was that pause about?" Lovino feigned offense.

"Who ever said I was talking about _you_?"

"I assumed I was important." The smile on Canada's face widened and he had to resist the urge to try and hug the man.

"You are." He averted his eyes, squealing on the inside. "I love you, man." Romano didn't seem surprised or even the least bit frustrated at this. He seemed pensive and tapped his chin in thought.

"Yeah, I have to say you're my friend too." Lovino actually smiled at him. But Canada…

_Friend?! Noooo!_ Romano had completely misinterpreted his confession! Now every time he said that he would think he was joking! Quickly, he worked to rectify this. "Well… To me you're more than that…" He attempted to hide his face in his shoulder as a blush built up in his cheeks, clutching the now squirming polar bear to his chest. This felt a bit more awkward than usual since he was naked beneath the thin layer of sheets. As soon as Alfred got back he was asking for clothes.

"More than what?"

"More than just my friend…" Matthew mumbled weakly into his shoulder and Kumajiro's fur. "I love you." Now was the reaction he was expecting. Lovino bit his lip and looked away, his face red.

_What the fuck Matthew!?_ You weren't allowed to just throw that out there in idle conversation! How was he supposed to react to that?! He did care about Canada… He cared about him a lot, he was his confidant, they had become so close so fast. But he couldn't lie to make him happy. There was a shaky breath and he realized he didn't want to be mean and rude about this. Spain would always love him no matter what he said to him, he was tough. Canada was young and inexperienced in this area, he didn't want to make him miserable when he already was physically unwell.

"I like you too Matthew. You are my friend, like I said, but…" The door opened then, the two jumped and looked to the man standing in the doorway.

"Prussia!" Matthew yelped and nearly jumped out of the bed in trying to distance himself from the man.

"What the fuck are you doing here you sick, sadistic fuck?!" Lovino jumped from his chair and stood ready to assault the albino.

Gilbert merely looked to Matthew, his heart sank in his chest at the sight before him. His best friend cowering away from him, his hand he could still use clutching the Italian boy's. His body was black and blue wherever skin was exposed and that was only about forty percent of him. Seeing this… he couldn't muster any other feeling than guilt, not that he was going to let on to that.

"You bruise like a fuckin' banana Canada!"

"Hello to you too, asshole." Prussia grinned, it was false and Matthew could tell.

"Hey! I'm over here too! Now fucking answer me!" Gilbert, not amused, looked to Romano.

"I originally vas going to fint you in Italy unt bead de lifing shid oud of you. Bud consitering dat you're in a hospidal I mighd do to you vhat I dit to your liddle butty dere." The threat was as empty as his smile, Lovino couldn't tell but Matthew sure could. Something was eating Gilbert and Matthew knew what it was as narcissistic as it was.

"Prussia, please don't…" Mathtew wasn't looking at him, he was looking at Romano instead, squeezing his hand.

"Vhy schoult I listen to you? Isn'd it obfious I don'd gif a fuck?" Prussia motioned to his general state with a smirk.

"Because I believe that you have enough scruples to listen to a cripple." Prussia rolled his eyes and approached the two.

Unbidden, Canada inched even further away and tightened his grip on Romano's hand. In a comforting gesture, Romano placed his free hand on Canada's shoulder. Prussia raised an eyebrow.

"So, vhat, ahre de _bod _of you a couple of cock-suckers now or someding?" He couldn't resist a joke at Canada's strange behavior.

"No you retard." Lovino scoffed in an "as if" sort of way. Matthew just looked away from Gilbert and slumped slightly. Immediately the albino felt like saying something like "Dat's expecdet" or "I don'd gif a shid" he couldn't make himself do it though. Plus he thought Matthew a total idiot for wanting anything to do with the bastard.

The blonde boy sighed, he'd had enough of Prussia's empty taunts and expressions. He knew his friend was unhappy, even if Lovino couldn't tell.

"Why are you here Prussia?"

"Vell vhy de fuck _else_ voult I be gracing dis hospidal vid my glorious presence?" Gilbert quirked his eyebrows at Canada, hopefully earning a smile.

The smile Prussia had hoped for didn't come, he just received a sarcastic look.

"Prussia-"

"Call me-"

"**Prussia**. We were in the middle of an important conversation when you walked in." Gilbert nearly yelled he didn't care but that would do him no good in the end… Canada smiled then, his sweet, trusting, affectionate smile that told Gilbert everything he needed to know about the state of affairs between them. Even after Prussia had beaten him to within an inch from life. "Could you wait uhm, in the hall or somewhere… Not there?" Prussia looked between the two and a grin pulled his face into one of suggestive humor.

"Vell, I am hungry unt I neet to see if dat American bastart sells anyding decend heir." Just like that he turned to leave, winking over his shoulder and making Matthew blush.

"Hey! Wait! You can't just leave!" Romano yelled, his face reddening at the thought of talking to the Candian alone.

"Hah, vatch me." Prussia strolled out the door, closing it firmly behind him. Lovino fidgeted then and looked down at Matthew. Those beautiful purple orbs bored into him immediate. He wished Prussia had never left…

---

"Fuck." Gilbert groaned to himself. "Fuck, fuck, damn, shid, son of a bitch, bastart, asshole!" Everyone in the hallway at that moment stopped to look at him as if he were insane. A few people whispered to one another, questioning if he had escaped from the psych ward. He growled as he passed all these people, not comfortable with all the staring. "Noh, I'm nod insane, noh I don'd hev Tourette's unt yes! I am royally pisst ovf!" he shoved his way through a group of nurses and a doctor. Many of them felt like they should do something… This angry man didn't feel right to them though, they had utterly no idea who he was but they knew he was someone no human could ever mess with.

Canada and Romano?! No! He wouldn't allow it!" It was blasphemy! It was wrong in every way he could think of! So why didn't he say that? Why did he just leave like that? He stopped and thought about turning around and storming back into that room. He had to stop _them_ from happening like he knew they would! Who could resist Canada?! But he realized something… He gave up rights to complain for Canada's wellbeing the moment he rose his hand in anger against him. More than anything he wanted to tear Romano apart, Canada was too good for him but the boy seemed to care more than just a great deal about him. Even without his own or Germany's interference the Italian's days among the living were numbered, he was unified with his brother and Veneziano was going to drag him down with him. Maybe if he could get them to separate again he could kill Romano and then Italy could take the territory over as his own again when all this blew over… No harm done in the long run… But Canada… Matthew was infatuated with the death row asshole… Prussia… Gilbert cared too much for the boy to do that.

_Fuck these pansy-ass emotions._ He should've stayed in Italy and helped the rioting people. "Fuck my conscious, fuck Romano, fuck all of this." _Matthew…_ He stopped at the door of the hospital… When had he started running? When had he gone down _two _flights of stairs?

A deep sigh escaped him. Running wasn't awesome, leaving this hospital now was the same thing as running away. He was Prussia and therefore he was awesome! And people who were awesome did not run away! It escaped him just exactly what he would be running away from if he left but that didn't matter. Everything had become so screwed up in just a matter of months, most of it over the course of a single week and _something_ had to be set right now. Somehow he felt that staying meant that they, a collective whole of all the involved parties, would be taking a step in the right direction.

A terrible noise escaped his gut just then. Hospital food it was!

---

"_Moshi-moshi_?_"_

"Schpeak Englisch!" Japan was silent, this voice was not familiar but it did hold a familiar German accent.

"_Doitsu-san_? Is something wrong with your voice?"

"Doits… Noh you idiot, dis is Prussia."

"_Puroisen-san_… How have you been?"

"Hmmm… Call me 'sama'." Japan could hear a smirk in the voice. The man had a bigger ego than America and like whenever he dealt with America he would just agree to get through the stupid stuff. "_Hallo!_ Ahre you schtill dere? _Ore-sama_ wants to know!" Japan sat silently, he was pretty sure _Ore-sama_ was the only Japanese the man knew…

"_Hai,_ I'm stirr here. May I ask why it is you have carred?"

"I hev 'carred'? Vhat de fuck does dat mean?"

"_Puroisen-__**sama**_, why have you _called_." Japan so rarely got irritated anymore and Prussia had so easily done just that. It must've been a special talent of his.

"I am calling aboud_ Westen_… Er, Germany."

"What is it?"

"He's being an idiot. He doesn'd seem to vand to lisden to me soh, coult you do the whole vorlt a fafor unt talk to him?" Japan was a calm and logical individual, very little beyond his awesome self could make him angry. Most likely Ludwig wouldn't get angry at him in a hurry either, getting angry at Gilbert was one thing and Kiku was another.

"What is your definition of 'being an idiot'?"

"Italy is dying unt he's doing noding aboud it."

"He and _Italia-kun_ divorced though… Isn't it common for newry divorced people to not exactry like each other?"

"Japan, dis is Germany unt Italy ve ahre talking aboud here. Don'd tell me you nefer notict anyding between dem." The Asian man would be lying if he said that he hadn't…

"Yes I have. But it's their choice to-"

"Do you _vand_ Italy to die?!"

"No. But _Doitsu-san_ needs to decide for himserf whether or not to help him. If he doesn't want to I am sure _Igirisu-san _and _Amerika-san_ wirr help… In fact, they should be now since they are a unified nation again."

"Ugh! You're nod gedding vhat I'm trying to schay!"

"Then be crearer."

"Okay… How do I schay dis… Dey schoult be fucking!"

"Ne! Ne-ne-ne-ene! _Nani?!_ Don't say such things!"

"Prute. Look, eider vay you vand to schay it 'fucking', '_Geschechtssverkehr haben_', 'making lof' _dey schoult doing it_!"

"S-so, you want me to get them to have…. Have… Sex?"

"Vell, nod in soh many vorts. Aht leasd make my bruder realize he's being schtupit okay?" Prussia felt inclined to further explain his reasons but simply said "It vill do bod of dem goot in de long run."

"Why are you asking me to do this?"

"Because you ahre his freund, he vill lisden to you." Japan remained silent on the other end of the phone, Prussia waited with baited breath.

"I wirr."

"Halv of Europe is counding on you."

"_Sayonara Puroisen-sama._"

"Ugh, _Tschüss _Japan." Kiku fidgeted for a moment and stood up, he had to figure out what to say to Germany to convince him to be a bit… From the way Prussia made it sound, nicer to Italy.

_What am I supposed to saaaaay?_ It was perhaps the most daunting question he had ever faced.

Japan still had this same problem of how to phrase anything as he stood at Germany's snowy doorstep. He slowly knocked and jumped back when the door flew open and the angry blonde yelled "_VHAT_?!" down at him.

"_Doitsu-san_… _Ogenki desu ka?_" Realizing the grave mistake he had just made, Germany pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed.

"Sorry, I'm fine. I'fe been gedding some rader… Unvandet fisidors today." Even though the only time they came was earlier that day, the sun was down now and Germany wasn't going to deny the well bundled-up man entrance to his home. He stepped aside and let Japan walk in. As Japan took his shoes off along with his scarves and coat Germany shut the door. "Vhat brings you hier? Schoultn'd you be home preparing for Christmas?"

"Oh, I uh… I came here to talk to you about something…" Kiku could feel the air electrify and the atmosphere grow tense as Ludwig turned his head back in that strange cuckoo clock-like manner. There was bridled rage within those steel-blue eyes.

"Aboud vhat?"

-----

Notes:

Moshi-moshi--Hello?

Puroisen-san/sama--Prussia

Ore-sama--I(very high honorific) Prussia's favorite way of referring to himself and is often translated in a sentence as "the awesome me"

Igirisu-san--England

Amerika-san--America

Nani--What?!

Geschechtssverkehr haben--To have sex (THIS IS EXTREMELY FORMAL! Mostly for people like Luddi who are uncomfortable with talking about stuff like that XD)

Sayonara--Goodbye

Ogenki desu ka--How are you?

Ne-ne~! It's midnight and I'm exhausted, another chapter up and things are finally starting to get better. The worst is behind our beloved characters now! Or is it?! Oooo… But seriously, I'm tired and will be going to bed now. G'night yall!


	15. Aftermath XV All Coming

Hahahaha! Got back from Sugoicon on Sunday at like noon, EPIC con, not my best but still pretty good I have to say, the Prussia there made my day, she was kinda tall… And now my laptop has a slue of stickers up on it. Mostly of Prussia and Canada buuuut yeah, not important. The Hetalia people in general made my day. But yeah on to why you're actually here!

-----

The look in Germany's eyes was terrifying. Japan considered taking a step back, but he wasn't about to show fear now.

"I am here to discuss your state of affairs with _Italia-kun_." _And something else…_

"_Vhy_?" Germany hissed in the back of his throat. He was sick and tired of this, three people! Three! Had talked to him about this (the first being the worst) and he was fed up with it!

"B-Because… You shouldn't be apart." Japan nervously clasped his hands behind his back. Germany just stared, his eyebrow twitching with pent up anger.

"Do you know jus _how many_ people hev been by today, counding you, to talk to me aboud dat boy?" Japan shook his head, he had known Prussia had spoken to him obviously, but that other people had… Not so much.

"Dree… Dree people. Unt you vand to know vhat boud of dem tolt me? Von tolt me dat he… Loft me unt de oder vas trying to say dat I vas gay too. If you ahre heir to tell me dis, you bedder march oud of my house righd now." Japan couldn't help but smile, not mocking Germany at all or finding this frustration of his cute but just he had another reason for visiting other than at Prussia's request.

"Christmas Eve is the day after tomorrow." Ludwig jumped and looked at the calendar hanging by the bookshelf. Christmas Eve really was the day after tomorrow… It was his turn this year to host the party too… "Do you plan to invite _Italia-kun_?"

"Noh, vhy voult I?" Ludwig wasn't really paying all that much attention and stared off into space for the moment. He was silently going crazy in his head, he had so much to do!

"Christmas spirit?" Germany's face was a deadpan as he stared at the man. Screw Christmas spirit! For now… "_Doitsu-san_,_ Italia-kun_ has been your royar arry for a very rong time now… Just for the twenty-fourth, set aside your recent differences." Germany sighed, he doubted he could do that. Especially after he yelled at Italy like that and threatened him to go away. "If you don't invite him to the party, at least wish him a merry Christmas."

"Mmn, I suppose I cahn aht leasd do dat." Japan smiled again and took a slip of paper from his pocket along with a pen. "Vhat is dat for?"

"Shopping list, it's best that we do the shopping today and we clean and set up tomorrow… Arsoh, who are we going to invite?" Now that Germany thought about it, he really didn't know who. It had been awhile since their last Christmas party (Japan's and Italy's turns had been skipped) and usually it was himself, Japan, Italy and Prussia. For a few years America attended and dragged England with him a couple times. Once or twice Romano and Spain had dropped by at Italy's whining and Spain's good humor… France one year, but after he and Prussia had a contest about who could make what guest more awkward the fastest… It was in everyone's better interest the man stayed away… Germany shivered, remembering his brother coming onto him in the grotesque ways he was wont. The face America had made when France groped him set of a pang of sympathy for the man also. That was the last year America came to the party… Four years ago.

"Ve schoult invide America dis year…" Ludwig openly mused, Japan fidgeted at the name. "Vhat? You two heven'd schpoken in a vhile if I remember correcdly…" It seemed to Ludwig that the war had done much to distance friendships if not totally destroy them. "Canada too… Bud I dink he's in de hospidal… Vell, ve cahn schtill sent him a cart or someding, it's bedder dan noding."

"Who?" Japan asked, happy to get off the subject of America.

"Prussia's friend… I don'd know anyding else aboud him…" Japan nodded and scribbled down names. "Mmn, Prussia mighd vant to spent de time vid him den come to de pardy, so pud his name down. Soh, ve hev America, Canada, Prussia, you unt myselv dus var…" OTher than Italy and Romano… He couldn't think of anyone else, did he really have so few people to trust? Japan was busy scribbling as he thought.

"Dat's ahll…" He said sighing.

"_Hai_. Time for the shopping list." Kiku looked up at Ludwig, determined. He was going to blow this man's irritation off the day and redirect it at shopping, it was much healthier (and served his purpose better). No, he hadn't forgotten his conversation with Prussia, but German needed a distraction from all this nation business… It was time to go back to more human affairs.

Ludwig and Kiku spent the next half-hour rattling off the various things they knew they would need and some things Ludwig personally needed. He hadn't gone food shopping in awhile, which reminded him that his refrigerator needed to be emptied out in some places.

Finally the two left the house after firmly bundling up, they had to hurry, the stores were most likely going to close soon.

---

Lovino sat down, not much minding the hand on his but all the same uncomfortable. There were no more Prussian distractions, he had to face this. He had to refuse Canada. But how could he when the bespectacled (currently not) violet-eyed man was in such a piteous state… No! He couldn't just say yes because he felt sorry for him. In the end that was worse that was worse than spitting in Canada's face and walking away.

"Matthew…" He started tentatively. The Canadian gripped his hand harder and leaned in. "You're my friend, and I like you… But, you know that Spain and I-"

"You refused reparations when it was freely given." Canada paused and thought. "I heard about it on the news so I assumed…" A tic appeared between the Italian's fine eyebrows.

"I was trying to say that… We're at odds right now, but I still love the stupid bastard… I came here to ask you what I should do but…" Canada's chest hurt and his pride seemed to have taken a blow too as he felt like a complete fool just then. "You're just a friend to me." Matthew's very heart hurt, everything hurt, emotionally and physically… Everything that had gone wrong in subsequent days suddenly came to the forefront of his mind. Being forced to kidnap Italy, Lovino going behind his back, the gunfight, Prussia beating him senseless, having to lie to his family… And now this.

It started as a spark and quickly grew to a roaring flame. It took a lot for his temper to do this, he hadn't ever felt like this, even when Gilbert practically sexually molested him…

"Your friend!? Just your friend?!" His voice hurt and his ribs groaned, Lovino backed away when the naked man attempted to lean in a threatening manner towards him… He succeeded in that and nearly crushing the bones in Lovino's hand. "I've gone through a lot of shit for you, eh! Look at me! Just look, eh! Look what has happened to me because I followed what you've said! Even after all this shit I still love you! I don't care that you can be selfish and absentminded! I don't care that you shot me! I don't blame you for the disrepair of my relationship with Prussia! I don't blame you for any of this… I just…" His anger died and he hiccupped. "I just want…" The voice he spoke in was barely a whisper, intermittently it was broken by sobs. "I want to still be with you after all of this. Once this nonsense has been settled, eh. I want to be there with you and support you when you're feeling bad… I want to cook you breakfast every morning and kiss you when I wake up… I even want the stupid little fights we sometimes have. I want to always be there for you when you need it." His hand slipped off Lovino's and he covered his face.

"I… I-I'm sorry Matthew… There is only one thing there that I cannot do… You want all these things and I do too. I do want to still be your friend, I want to be able to ask you for advice and go to you when I'm feeling bad. You're a damn good cook too… But my heart belongs to someone else. He has held it in his pal for centuries and I doubt he knows how much it wants to stay there…" Very cautiously, he put his hand on the tearing man's back. Canada shook his head and moaned lightly.

"You won't remember me, though. Slowly, you'll stop visiting and asking. You'll then stop calling. Next you will go from a person that asks where I am to someone that says "who is he?". You'll go back to seeing right through me and passing me by as if I don't exist." The seemingly fragile body shook, pain following and making the tears come faster. Lovino opened his mouth to say something but Matthew spoke first. "Don't you dare deny it, eh." He sounded angry for that moment. "It happened just like that with my very own parents. It takes a catastrophe for them to remember who I am." The harsh tones of his voice fell back to mournful. "I have no one to really go to. You say I have a brother, hah. He's just like yours. All he does is make stupid jokes and try to lighten the mood when I just want someone…" He coughed violently into his hands, racking his whole body with pain once again. "Someone who will listen."

Against his own better judgment, Lovino leaned in and lightly (awkwardly) embraced the boy. Matthew sniffled and looked to him as best he could, the Italian appeared deep in thought.

"I promise…" Lovino started out slowly. He never really ever promised anyone anything. "I will not forget about you. Too much has happened for me to do that…"

"You'll still forget it was me and think it was Alfred."

"Stop that." Matthew pulled out of the embrace to look at him. "Stop being just… Like that. You are more a memorable person than some that I've met. When I promise I won't forget, better you believe me because I won't. So stop crying like a little girl and man up." A smile cracked the mask of despair if only for a moment, it quickly slid back into place when Lovino stood, however.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to look for my idiot brother. He got up and wandered off while I was out yesterday."

"Oh… Okay… Bye, then?" Lovino nodded and threw his coat on. He seemed so eager to be leaving…

"I'll be back sometime soon. See ya." Without a backward glance, he left. Canada could feel the tears returning, he knew this would end the same way things always did. People would make promises, forget them, then forget him. It was how it always had been for Matthew Williams.

"Hey, hey! Your faforide person in de whole vorlt is back." Prussia poked his head into the room to see the boy crying. Anger (and something else) boiled in his stomach. What had that skinny, pasta-eating bastard done now!? The albino strode into the room and stood by his friend's bedside. "Come on now. Tell me vhat's wrong." He hated emotional situations like this, but Romano had obviously done _something_ to make the boy this unhappy. The wavy-haired blonde shook his head and didn't speak.

"Euh… Vhat dit Romano do?"

"Nothing." Canada wiped his eyes with a sheet, he still wasn't looking up.

"If he dit noding, vhy vere you crying?"

"Shut up Prussia."

_Okay, different approach…_ "Do you schtill vant to cry?" Now that, Canada thought, was extremely out of character of the usually brash and insensitive Prussian. The fact that he had asked at all was a miracle upon a miracle and the man just remained silent. The wavy-haired blonde could hear him sigh. What came next was something he never in a thousand years thought he would see… As long as Gilbert was being serious and sober that was.

"Euh! Put me down!"

"Noh." Gilbert answered as he sat down in the hospital bed, later sitting Matthew down in his lap.

"G-Gilb-ber-rt, what are you doing?" Sitting naked in his best friend's lap with his back against the man's chest was the most awkward thing Gilbert had gotten him to do yet. "Uhm, you don't have to-"

"Schud up." The albino had the sense to pull the sheet over Matthew's groin, that probably was bothering him.

"I-I thought being emotional wasn't awesome…" His face was beet red, there weren't words to express his happiness that Gilbert could _not_ see his face.

"It's nod."

"I'm not awesome then?" The strawberry-blonde tried for humor.

"Ditn'd you reat de cart?"

"Yeah…"

"De awesome me doesn'd lie." Matthew could hear the smile in Gilbert's voice and leaned back against him with his own smile.

"You're being a bit emotional too… And very weird."

"Don'd make me break de resd of your ribs." A painful chuckle could not be gotten around as Canada saw a smirk grace Prussia's lips. "Ve look soh gay righd now."

"Your fault." Matthew closed his eyes, smiling. How was it, mere moments before he had been crying, but now he was relaxed and laughing? Prussia really did know how to make things seem better with no effort at all.

"Nod to ruin your momend or noding, bud your hair is gedding in my moud." Canada straightened up and then slumped forward. So damn tired.

"Why are you being so nice anyway?"

"Because I am awesome unt awesome people cahn admid it vhen dey'fe done somding wrong to a fruend. Don'd expecd dis to lasd." He knocked lightly on the bandaged head in front of him. Matthew winced and leaned away from him.

"I didn't expect it to. It's weird when you're nice." The two smiled and stared out the hospital window as the decorative fountains of a nearby river went off.

_This is so gay._

---

"Where have you been?!" Romano grabbed his shaky brother about the shoulders and shook him.

"In Germany." Feliciano replied with very little inflection.

"Why the Hell were you over there?!"

"I told him."

"Y-You did?" Somewhere, in a place so dark and secretive that even Romano did not know he had, he had hoped for his brother's love to be reciprocated. If only just for his brother's happiness, however, his brother was here and looking as if he would be at death's doorstep. He nearly felt sympathetic for him, but he couldn't allow himself that. Not when he couldn't have Spain. "What did I tell you brother?" He patted the boy on the back and began to steer him towards his room.

"Have you talked with Antonio at all?"

"No." Lovino resisted the impulse to shove him along.

"It's almost Christmas. You should at least say hello."

"How about… I don't want to?"

"I would be good for you. Both of you."

"Shut up, Veneziano."

"I faced my fear, you need to as well."

"I don't need to do anything! And look where 'facing your fears' got you!" Lovino gave his brother a hard shove, knocking him into the wall. Feliciano didn't care, he was past caring about many things by now.

"You're a coward Lovino."

"What'd you say?!"

"I said you're a coward. If you get over yourself and try to talk to him Antonio will listen, you know. I bet he just wants you to forgive him if not take him back…"

"Well, what do you know?!" And here came the tears. "He wouldn't want me to come see him now. I know he wouldn't."

"_Fratello_…" Feliciano hugged his brother close, he knew a lot of this had been stressful for him too. Even if they didn't always share the same problems or see eye to eye. Then the brunette remembered something as Lovino started to return the hug. "I know that it was you who started this. You don't have you lie anymore."

"_Che cosa_?" Lovino backed away and looked at Veneziano's grim face.

"I know you got me into this situation, but… _Io non ti odio. Non posso… Ti amo Lovino_."

"R-Really?" Feliciano's long-absent smile lit up his face, Hell, it lit up the whole country at this point.

"Of course! I know what you did was only because you loved me and wanted what was best for me. Who could hate someone who acted on love?"

_Was that my reason?_ Lovino asked himself as he and his brother initiated another embrace. He wasn't going to admit he was wrong and apologize, no, Hell would have to fucking freeze over first. Even without offering apology Feliciano forgave him… _Canada_ forgave him, he felt a weight fall to his shoulders. These people loved him and extended their forgiveness when it had not even been deserved… It was his turn to forgive for past sins, but this person actually deserved forgiveness.

"V-Veneziano?" Lovino timidly asked.

"What is it brother?" Feliciano cheerily replied.

"C-Can you come with me?"

"Come with you where?"

"I-I want to talk to Spain."

"Of course! I would love to be your moral support!" Lovino could tell his brother was using all his dwindling energy to appear cheerful. Who could ever hold a grudge against him? The damn potato freak was worse than an idiot, he was a stubborn idiot. "C'mon! We can go right now! I bet he's home!"

"Now?!" Romano panicked!

"Yeah! C'mon!"

"No-No-No!" Lovino fought against the cheerful ball of dead energy. "Feliciano, no! I don't wanna!" He whined as the weaker of the two still tugged.

"Well, when then?!"

"Uh… Christmas!"

"Ve, Christmas, huh?" Feliciano thought it was perfectly romantic.

"Yeah…"

"Okay! Christmas it is! You better do some shopping brother!"

---

Speaking of shopping, over in Germany, Ludwig and Kiku stumbled into the house, each laden with several heavy canvas bags of groceries and other such supplies.

"_Doitsu-san_, may I ask that I drive next time?"

"Vhat is wrong vid my drifing?"

"You nearly hit a building because the GPS malfunctioned and didn't say to turn…" Germany sat the bags down on the counter in his spotless kitchen and looked away with a blush on his face. His arm was killing him so he focused his embarrassed attentions upon putting his bad arm back in its sling. In retrospect it had been a bad idea to use it as it was complaining more now than it had in two days. "I told you that you shouldn't have used that arm." Germany waved him off before pretending to examine his sling strap and starting to put things away for tomorrow.

"Vant a beir?" The German asked the Japanese man. Japan considered for a moment before nodding and Germany tossed a can to him with his left arm.

"I insist you go sit down Ludwig-san, let me put things away." Germany lifted an eyebrow at Japan's using his actual name, the two of them were usually so formal with one another… But he supposed it was a good thing the man was now comfortable enough with him to use his human name.

"Ahre you sure?" Kiku nodded as Ludwig opened a can of beer with only his left index finger. "Alrighd, I'll be on de couch if you vant to know vhere anyding goes."

Kiku walked into the family room about twenty minutes after Ludwig said he was going to be on the couch, the poor man was out cold, his beer can resting on the coffee table. He supposed that the blonde had plenty reason to be so exhausted, after everything that had happened that week… The Japanese man smiled as he looked down at his friend asleep, he was probably going to get cold…

"Hm…" He rushed off to Germany's linen closet and pulled out a comforter the man had stored in it. Once back at the couch, he threw unfolded the comforter and tossed it over the German's large frame.

Kiku hummed, satisfied with the job the comforter did with concealing the man. He too felt the need for sleep then, running around a store to get everything the two needed in less than an hour had been tiring. Putting the things away had been difficult too, as he didn't have the heart to come in here and wake him to ask where something went. The man turned and headed off for the guest bedroom in the back of the house, Germany was going to need help tomorrow after all.

Tomorrow, it was decided was going to be the day for Japan to help mend the tears in the friendship between the two nations… Between the two men.

-----

Notes:

Fratello--Brother…

Che cosa--What?

Io non ti odio. Non posso… Ti amo Lovino--I don't hate you. I can't… I love you Lovino.

I know, it's short, but I'm tired right now and the same day has been stretched out over like three chapters now. The day needed to end and mine needs to as well, so I'm going to bed as soon as I post this.


	16. Aftermath XVI Around To

Today has been exhausting and with the situation that I am in right now I can think of nothing better to relax me than to type this up when I should be doing other things. I'm such a terrible student I think.

EDIT: Since Aftermath is going to be concluded this month (November) I am holding a poll for my next big project on my profile page.

-----

Kiku rose early the following morning to clean the house while Ludwig slept. Whatever he could get off the man's shoulders would be good. It would put him in a significantly better mood knowing his house was completely clean, the party was ready and everything had been idiot proofed. Consulting the chart Germany had up by the kennels out back he even fed his dogs this morning and let them have run of the back end of the house as he knew Germany usually would. He would wait for Ludwig to actually wake up to take the dogs for their walk as Kiku was more of a cat person than a dog person.

Japan pulled out Germany's contact book from his desk and looked over the nation's numbers. He didn't need America's he already had that one, there was a quick one that was scribbled down next to a Ca. The rest was a scribble as Germany seemed to have forgotten how to spell the rest of the word, the numbers were clear though. Even if it was Canada's number he wouldn't have been able to pick up anyway so he didn't bother writing it down. It would be best if Germany talked to Italy personally so he didn't need that one either. Romano was out of the question, just no. Prussia! Hopefully Canada would be with him. He took out his cell phone then and dialed the number, it would be late, but he highly doubted the man ever got much sleep.

---

"'Ey! Wot's goin' on 'ere?!" Canada jumped and attempted to scramble away from Prussia as the albino nation looked over his shoulder at England. "A-Are ya two-"

"No." The two in the hospital bed replied in unison. Gilbert sat up, he had laid down for a nap next to Matthew earlier and apparently had slept the rest of the day away. It was about two in the morning…

"Ahre you _jus_ gedding back Englant?" Prussia tweaked an eyebrow. England fidgeted and twiddled his fingers for that moment.

"Is Papa with you?" Canada asked, red in the face about falling asleep with Prussia and being caught.

"Eurh, 'e's comin'."

"You forgot to come back after you got food didn't you…" Canada really didn't seem all that surprised.

"Eh… Yeah? Sorry, Matthew, there were… Other distractions." Prussia's smirk stretched his face to the point he showed teeth. This menacing smirk always made Matthew want to crawl away under a rock it was so creepy. He was very glad this was not directed at him.

"Oh, I see. You hat '_Mutti und Vati_ time'." The albino held his hands up and made air quotes with his fingers.

"Shuh up ya kraut!" England turned away from the two, his face beet red.

"Goot nuvs Mattie! Your _Mutti_ und _Vati_ are togeder again!" Canada twitched at the nickname and England felt like waling on the man's head. The only thing that made him restrain himself was the fact that Prussia had his arm draped over the embarrassed nation and if England were to attack him he would most likely harm the blonde as well. All Canada could think at that moment though to block out the feeling of heat on his face pertained to where the Hell America was with his clothes. Meanwhile, Prussia chuckled in his usual way he was wont. "Kesesesese, dat face says it ahll. Ist de olter bruder vid him?" Arthur once again felt like attacking the man, a good punch to the nose ought to do the trick… Once again though, he remembered that Canada was right next to the annoying asshole. Instead the bushy-browed man settled for a venomous glare and a hiss in his voice.

"America said 'e would be 'ere soon. 'E 'ad to stop an' get Canada some clothes."

_Finally, Alfred! _"Where's Kumakyo?" The blonde asked, suddenly realizing that the white puff-ball was nowhere to be found, neither was yellow pom-pom that usually sat atop the silverette's head. As he looked around more and more frantically (Arthur and Gilbert watching with some amusement) he began to panic as the polar bear was definitely _not_ in the room. "Kumakero! Where are you, eh?!" He attempted to jump up, only to be restrained by Prussia and England as France made his entrance. He wasn't totally surprised that most of the pain had subsided, he was a nation after all and therefore healed as fast as a hurricane blew.

"Calm down, Gilbird is vid him, I'm sure, noh, I _know_ he's fine." Gilbert firmly pulled Matthew into his lap and held him there.

"They're animals, Gil! They don't know the difference bet-"

"Prussia! What _are_ you doing to Mathieu!?" The man rushed into the room as dramatically as was possible for a Frenchman (which is very). England quickly moved to stand in front of him.

"_Hallo_, France. Und vhat does it look like I'm doing?!"

"Invading his vital regions, that's what! Failing, though, obviously." There was a gasp from out in the hallway as the next loud-mouthed blonde made his presence known, dramatically bursting into the room. As an American and being perhaps the most dramatic of the nations, he blew France away in dramatics, he even struck a terrified pose.

"Prussia is invading _whose_ vital-" Alfred stopped short as he noticed England trying to push France away from a confused and hysterical (not to mention butt naked) Canada while he and Prussia bickered about something. The latter of them not putting up much of a verbal fight as he was obviously too amused by this entire situation and how it must look. He just hugged Matthew to him after a few seconds and smirked, looking seductively down at the man's little brother. "What in tarnation is goin' on?!" There was a resounding "shhhhh!" from out in the hallway and the family remembered that they _were_ in a hospital. Alfred merely shut the door.

Canada seemed to have to stifle some sort of chuckle at his brother's use of the word "tarnation" he usually was very good at escaping such terminology. But then again, this was quite the scene to walk in upon.

"He's trying to deflower my sweet, little Matthieu!" France whined as England somehow or another gained control of the situation and shoved him back and down into a chair. Sitting on him for good measure. "_Angleterre! Pourquoi!?_" America looked over to Canada and Prussia then. The smaller nation seemed angry about something, yes he was blushing profusely, but he was obviously more angry than embarrassed at that moment. Prussia was just sniggering about something, as if he was in the middle of some sort of inside joke.

"Why does everyone assume I'm a virgin?!" Matthew yelled and flailed his arms painfully. The three blondes looked to Canada then, in unison came the single question, "Aren't you?" Gilbert gripped his stomach and a veritable cornucopia of sounds of amusement spewed forth from him. He hugged Matthew firmly about his shoulders and earned some rather unflattering looks, especially from Matthew.

"I haven't been for nearly… Well, over, 120 years now!" The three squabbling blonde's mouths dropped open, they reminded Prussia of a school of fish.

"Ya… Ya got laid before _me_?!" America loudly exclaimed, incredulous.

"Alfred, you're older than me, that's an impossibility as-"

"That's not what I'm sayin'! If my math is right, you popped your cherry a year before I banged my first chick!" Everyone (excluding Prussia of course) winced at his terminology. Prussia's laughter escalated and he slapped Matthew hard on the back, really the man couldn't breathe. The rage in Matthew's eyes could not be paralleled at that moment, someone was about to get their ass ripped off.

"Kesesesese, I'fe been callin' ya a firgin since I med ya, sorry buddy!" Gilbert hugged his fuming friend. "I ditn'd know ya hat it in ya for _dat_ long!" While Gilbert was infinitely amused, England and France looked utterly horrified. Their little boy hadn't been a virgin in _how long_?! Canada sighed and leaned against Gilbert, his forehead having many wonderful meetings with the hard bone of the sturdy man's shoulder.

"Alfred… Can I please just have my clothes?" The angered strain in Matthew's voice was all too obvious.

"Oh, sure." Alfred tossed the bundle under his arm to his younger brother, the Canadian flag boxers on top of it all. Gilbert's eyebrow rose once again.

"Silk, Mattie?"

"Sh-Shut up." As Matthew shifted to try and put his clothes on, he was suddenly very acutely aware of just how many eyes were on him… His body ached up a storm once more and the large amount of bandages would make dressing beneath the sheets difficult…

"Ueh… C-Could you guys leave?" He posed the question mainly at England and France, but it definitely applied to Alfred as well.

"D' ya need help?" Alfred asked, looking skeptical of Matthew's not asking Gilbert to leave.

"Just leave. I know! Go look for Kumahiro for me! If Gilbird is with him he won't be too hard to find." Once again the three looked at him and Gilbert strangely, this flared his temper that seemed to be showing its ugly head more and more often. "Get out! Get out now!" The three were instantly up and the door slammed behind them.

The albino looked to him then, questioning silently why he hadn't been booted in kind. He opened his mouth to voice this very question only to have Matthew speak first.

"Please, eh. Help me out of bed." It may have been late, but by God he was going to put some damn clothes on! Even if he was just going to go back to sleep a few minutes later.

"Vhy ditn'd you kick me oud too?" Prussia stepped off the bed and turned to help the nude man stand. Matthew held the sheet around his hips for some form of modesty

"Because you have an obligation to be nice to me. Alfred would just be annoying and Arthur and Papa… No one wants to have their parents help them get dressed." Gilbert supposed he saw logic in that as he grabbed the red and white, silk boxers from the bed. "I'm sorry Gil. This is the last thing you have to do for me okay? You can go back to normal and I won't hold it against you." The Prussian nodded as he held the boxers out for Matthew to step into. Occupying his eyes on something else other than the sight directly in front of him, Gilbert stared down at the Canadian man's legs. Matthew could be so feminine at times it surprised Gilbert just how hairy they were. Then again, the strands were blonde so not very noticeable. What was _very _noticeable though, were the bruises all over them. They were healing, it was clear, but they were still great blotches of black, blue and green. Never in words would he express his sorrow for every exact thing that he had done to the boy, actions spoke louder anyway. Words were cheap as he had exhibited so many times previous.

Matthew then dropped a pair of grey sweatpants on top of the man's head, Gilbert smirked, truly he couldn't resist what came so easily to his lips.

"You jus cahn'd vaid to drow your pands aht me, eh?"

"Gilbert…"

"Alrighd, alrighd." Gilbert held out the pants and let Matthew step into them, he even tied the drawstrings for him. "Dere you go. Neet help vid your shird?" His eyebrow rose once again. Matthew just shook his head and settled back down onto the bed, his joints cracking. "Soh, my task is complede?" Matthew looked at him strangely and nodded, Gilbert… Smiled… It wasn't a creepy one neither, it was just… A smile. The silver-haired man opened his mouth to speak, but instead a roaring drum roll came from the man's pants pocket… "Mmng." He picked his cell phone out of his pants and flipped it open, sitting down on the bed next to Matthew's prostrate form.

"_Ja, ja_?"

"_Puroisen-sama_, herro." Japan?

"Eurh, Japan?"

"_Hai._"

"I already said hello." There was the sound of a palm meeting a face on the other end of the phone, a small "kesese" escaped the Prussian. He existed solely to annoy it appeared.

"You remember the party tomorrow?"

"_Westen _is schtill going to drow von dis year?"

"_H-_Yes."

"I see, bud _ja_, I remembert. Vhy?"

"Do you think Canada… Was that right?"

"Canada? You're talking aboud de nation righd?"

"Yes."

"_Ja_, Canada. Vhat aboud him?" Matthew shifted to get a better look at the man on the phone, genuinely curious.

"Who is it Gil?"

"It's Japan." Gilbert answered holding the phone away from his ear, putting it back a moment later. "Vhat aboud Canada?"

"_Doitsu-san_ has asked me to invite him to the party."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Who else is infitet? If America is den I cahn tell him. He's arount." Japan stuttered for a second, he had been nervous about calling America anyway.

"Wourd you? _Arigatou_!" Gilbert could hear the relief in the small man's voice.

"No problem. I'll tell him vhen I run indo 'im nexd… Do you two neet help ofer dere?"

"_Doitsu-san_'s still asleep. I don't want him stressed, if he's in a good mood he wirr be more receptive of _Italia-kun_ I think. Help wourd be appreciated."

"Alrighd, I'll be ofer soon… Euh, hang on a moment." Gilbert turned back to the sleepy Matthew to ask him Japan's question, but first, he had to ask a question of his own. "Do you know how long you vill be heir?"

"If I ordered them I would be allowed to leave, why?" Canada shifted as if to shrug while he spoke.

"Do you vant to go to _Westen_'s Chrisdmas pardy tomorrow nighd?" Canada blinked, incredulous.

"Why? I mean… He doesn't' even know me."

"I'm gonna be dere. He knows you're my fruend."

"If I get a lot of sleep I should be well enough…" Gilbert smirked and went back to the phone.

"Canada vill be coming tomorrow nighd."

"Who?" Both the occupants of the bed looked around at the small voice, where had it come from?

"Hang on again Japan. Dere is someding in de room…" Matthew sat up and looked around, no sign of the white puff-ball or yellow pom-pom. Gilbert looked up at the sound of a cheep coming from up above his head. "How de fuck dit you ged in dere?" The blonde gave him a look and shifted to see what Gilbert was looking at…

"Wow, how…?"

"_Ja…_" The Prussian stood and strode over to the chair France had been sitting in earlier, hopping up on top of it he peered into the ventilation duct… Just beyond the grate was a white face, a yellow ball of fluff sitting atop it. "I'm nod going to efen ask for de simple facd dat Gilbird vas vid him." Matthew chuckled, delighted that laughing didn't hurt as much as it did previously.

After digging into his pocket and retrieving his keys, Gilbert opened the multitool he had attached to the keychain, using the screwdriver on the vent a second later.

"Alrighd, c'mere." Sticking the still open cell phone into his back pocket, he reached up into the duct and pulled out the heavy bear as Gilbird took off and landed on Canada's head. Prussia re-placed the duct and somehow or another managed to even screw it back to the wall before his arm got tired. "_Gott_ Matthew, vhat do you feet him?" Gilbert dropped the bear to the bed.

"Anything he wants." Matthew answered with a smile, reaching to scratch behind the polar bear's ears. Gilbert tugged the phone out of his back pocket then and returned it to his mouth.

"Schtill dere?"

"_Hai._"

"I'll be dere in an hour."

"Okay, I'rr see you then."

"_Tschüss._" Prussia sighed and flipped the phone closed. He looked to Matthew, he was allowed to be himself again, eh? A wide smirk spread over his face, his teeth were exposed. He could see the blonde visibly inch back. "Soh, _vas_ your firsd time 'popping your cherry'?" Canada closed his eyes and sighed, exasperated.

"First off Gil, that is an impossibility as I am male. Second, my first time was with a woman."

"Bed she toppt you, kesesesesesesesese."

"As a matter of fact, she didn't." Gilbert's brow rose, that was unexpected. "And before you even think of asking…" Matthew paused for a second as his face grew very red. "I actually popped hers…"

"Vell, you hev a bid more bide to you dan I doughd." That cruel smirk grew wider. "_Efer_ hat your-"

"No."

"Voult you efer van-"

"No."

"How do you kn-"

"Because you are predictable, Gil."

"I don'd di-"

"Well, you are to me."

"Impressife…" Prussia's smirk became that plain smile from earlier. "_Mein Gott_ Matthew." Canada chuckled, realizing what was so funny about the situation. "Don'd you fint it strange?" Gilbert paused, thinking of what he was going to say before he said it for the first time in centuries. "Avder deteriorading for two years it takes… Vhat? A single nighd for our freundschip to rekintle, less den fife minudes for it to become compromist und a day to built back up to de poind vhere you know vhat I'm saying before I say it…" He sighed out his nose, smiling about the whole thing and how utterly… Weird it felt to know that neither of them bore hard feelings about what happened the two days previous. _It's also extremely gay…_

"We've been friends for awhile Gilbert. I don't really think it's _that_ odd." Matthew sighed, tiredly, lowering himself back down to his pillow, he pulled Kumajiro to himself and began to drift off. "If you want me to go to that party later tomorrow let me sleep."

"_Ja_, I god to goh anyvay… Oh, vaid." Gilbert reached into his coat pocket and pulled out pair of glasses then.

"Are those my glasses?"

"_Ja_. Vhen I valkt in heir earlier und saw dat you ditn'd hev dem, in dat hour I vas gone I vend up to your house by Ifujifik und god dem."

"Oh… Thank you." The small man took the proffered glasses and slipped them onto his face. Prussia turned to leave then. He stopped at the door for a moment as Gilbird flapped off Canada's head and landed on his shoulder, burying itself in his scarf.

"By de vay, I hev a presend for you tomorrow, so you sure as Hell bedder ged some schleep. God it?"

"A present? Wh-" Gilbert held up a finger and shook it back and forth in a "ah-ah-ah" motion. He made a "tsk, tsk, tsk" noise to go with it.

"I ain'd telling you so don'd ask. Jus schleep."

"Fine, see you tomorrow."

"_Schlaf gut._" Prussia left then, making sure to hunt down America as soon as he was out.

---

"How are you this morning?" The doctor asked Italy as he lazed in bed, his skin was even paler today, he doubted he would be able to do much more than peel himself from the piece of furniture. He was weak, even with the support from America and England. What was more confusing, was he couldn't understand why he was this way when Romano was perfectly fine. He wasn't showing any difficulties at all.

"Veeeh… Pastaaaaaaaa…." Feliciano moaned as his stomach growled.

"Pasta? Would you be able to keep that down?" The doctor asked as he noted something on the man's chart.

"_Si._"

"Alright, I'll ask Mr. Vargas to make you some then." As the doctor stood and paced out of the room Feliciano's thoughts floated back to Ludwig. Tomorrow would be their annual Christmas party… It would be the first time in two years that they would be able to have it. He wondered slightly if Ludwig and Kiku were still going to have it… They could be perfectly happy without him there… Tears slid from his eyes, he had been so sure he had no tears left to shed too. There had been so much crying as of late he was surprised he wasn't dehydrated.

He felt his heart skip. Desperately he clutched at his chest, it hurt so much, but the action did little to alleviate the pain. He was dying and he knew it, he doubted he had much time left. Just until Christmas. At least until Christmas. If he lasted longer he would be infinitely grateful to whatever sick being there was that chose to tie a living being to a nation.

Out of all humans to be chosen, why was _he_ the one to be a nation? He and his brother both…? Why was Ludwig a nation? Would their love be different if they were just humans? Would Ludwig love him and would they have a family? He remembered then how long it took him to meet Ludwig… They never would've met in an average human lifetime. Either way he couldn't have his happiness. He still wondered though…

As usual, his brother's pasta was exquisite. It was like a mouthful of happy in every bite.

"Feeling any different, brother?" Lovino asked as he fed his brother another forkful of pasta. The man wasn't as enthusiastic as he usually was. Still he was eating at a fast pace, but he wasn't inhaling it as he usually did… Two months ago, just two, his brother had inhaled half a pot of pasta and then sped out the door… Now he could barely eat a bowlful and couldn't move from bed…

"I'll make it to Christmas." Feliciano swallowed and smiled.

"You'll do fine afterwards too."

"I'm not so sure…" He received a sharp slap across the face for that one.

"Don't joke about that!" Lovino chastised as he forced another bite of noodles at his brother.

"I wasn't joking, though." Another slap, he expected that one.

"Then just shut up! You'll be fine! You'll see." He thrust the fork into Feliciano's mouth, close to tears. Feliciano didn't speak and ate in silence.

He clawed at his chest again as his heart skipped mid-bite. The pain didn't subside for several seconds, several seconds of agony he could do nothing about. He gasped for air and thrashed about as Romano looked on helplessly. Should he call the doctor off break? Should he try to help the man himself? Or could he only watch as his brother slowly tore himself apart…? This shouldn't be happening like this… There were two countries supporting them and he himself was fine… What was going on?

"A-Are you alright?" The tanner brunette asked him, putting his hand on his little brother's shoulder.

"Y-yeah." Feliciano gasped, rubbing his chest. "I'll be fine in a second…" He could feel a bit more of himself dying with each breath, perhaps Christmas would be a bit of a stretch. It didn't matter, he was determined to make it! Lovino needed him to be there! His brother asked so little of him (whether this was because he was believed to be an idiot or not he didn't know) and he wasn't going to cop out on him. He gave his brother a confident smile as he just stared at him worriedly. "Really, I'm fine." _For now._

Romano bit his lip and stood, Feliciano giving him an odd look as he took the bowl of pasta into his hands along with the fork.

"I'll be back in a few minutes." Heaven help him, he was not going to live down what he was about to do. If he knew the bastard he was calling well enough (which he was pretty sure he did) he would never let him. There was probably going to be quite a bit of yelling too…

Walking into his office he pulled out the dusty contacts book and picked out the name he needed, typing it into his cell phone.

"Fuck my life."

"Ja, ja. Who de fuck is it?" The gruff voice on the other end of the phone growled, irritated. Yeah, he was going to regret this.

---

Germany pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned against the doorframe, being careful to keep his dry towel firmly tied about his waist.

"Japan, I'fe tolt you, you don'd hev to clean my house." He said as he stepped into his bathroom to take a shower. The Asian man was scrubbing down the inside of his shower. Prussia had left a few minutes ago with Blackie, Aster and Berlitz to take them on a walk for him. Germany couldn't help but get the distinct feeling that he was pregnant or something.

"I needed something to do. The rest of the house was already almost clean, once _Puroisen-san _arrived the house was clean almost instantly… Ever noticed how contradictory your brother is?"

"Many times a day. Vhat is he doing back in my house by de vay?"

"Was he not arrowed?"

"Noh. I kickt him oud yesderday…"

"Oh, _gomenasai…_ I just thought that-" Germany pinched the bridge of his nose again and clapped him on the shoulder.

"It's fine. He vas going to be here tomorrow nighd anyvay." Japan then took in the full sight of his friend… His face turned red at the tall blonde's obvious nakedness.

"A-ah I'rr reave now!" It didn't take him a second to leave the room. Germany sighed and shook his head back and forth, running his hands through his messy hair. Today was destined to be obnoxious, he could feel it creeping into his bones. He rolled his arm around, pleased to see that it didn't hurt anymore, well, it hurt a little, but it was useable now at least. His face felt so odd in a smile, he couldn't resist though, _something_ was going right.

As he stepped into the shower and turned it on he was quickly reminded by the freezing cold spray of the feeling he had not even ten seconds ago. Today was going to be annoying.

-----

Notes:

Mutti und Vati--Mummy and Daddy (roughly)

Angleterre! Pourquoi--England! Why?!

Hai--Yes

Mein Gott--My God

Si--Yes

Gomenasai--Sorry (formal)

I took a quiz during this that said I was most like Austria… The scary thing is that I think I am… Oh well, explains my deep love for Prussia XD

Been sick all day, had nothing to do but write after sleeping didn't work. All I've eaten today was a bottle of Perrier and soda crackers. FML.

EDIT: Since Aftermath is going to be concluded this month (November) I am holding a poll for my next big project on my profile page. (just sticking this down here for extra measure)

EDIT: Minor edits have been made, i'm at the point where if anyone notice's spelling mistakes or accent mistakes, please tell me!


	17. Aftermath XVII The Very

Okay, haha, sorry this took so long guys, but yeah. I had a few days of making up homework :C but that's what I get for being sick for so long. My elbow hasn't really gotten any better sadly and my incessant drawing and homework doing that has over taken me in the absence of writing has only served to make it worse. After the last two chapters are posted expect about a week or two dry spell between the end and ANYTHING at all. I need to see if I can make this pain go away with a week's rest.

Alright! Chapter 17!

Oh, wait, one last delay, please, I want as many peoples opinions as possible, please, there is a poll on my profile for the people who haven't checked about what I am going to be doing next. I seem to use please a lot… Oh well, enough delays, here you go!

-----

Feliciano pushed himself up in bed, sitting the now empty bowl down on the bedside table. Lovino had been gone about ten minutes, there were sounds coming from down the hall that suggested he was yelling. He must have been on the phone, or going completely insane… Whoever it was he was yelling, at he sincerely hoped the person deserved it. Too much bad will had been floating around since all this began.

Pain lanced through the Italian's chest, he curled in on himself, gasping for air as the hammering pressed the air from his lips. A white-hot pinpoint then formed within his head, blurring his eyesight and causing his ears to ring. The burning snuffed itself out as suddenly as it started, but there was no relief as Italy's heart started to complain again. A small noise escaped him as he tried to curl in on himself even harder, tensing whatever muscles he could to dull the pain. While his head _pain_ did not return his ears continued to ring with deafening intensity as he clenched his eyes shut, tears beginning to form at their edges. What was this?

_Why me?_

Down the hall in the office, Romano was indeed yelling into the receiver of his office phone. This was not out of anger _yet_, mostly just to be heard over the other party's _own_ yelling.

"I don'd care vhat you hev to schay! Really I don'd! I'm hanging up now!" Prussia's voice spewed into Romano's ear angrily.

"Wait! Just fucking hear what I have to say!" Romano _pleaded_, he was tired of this crap, he had to do something to even _begin_ to set things right. It really stuck in his gullet however, that he had to start where he was.

"Actually! You know vhat?! I dink I vill! You can schtard by telling me vhat de fuck you dit to Canada!"

"What did I… What?! I didn't do anything to him!" _Other than shoot him, make him bug Germany's house, get him beat up by you and break his heart… Oh…_

"Yes you dit! He vas _crying_ vhen I valkt in lader!"

"You care why?" On the one level, he really was curious, on another, he just wanted a reason to make fun of the man. On his basest level though, he just didn't want to talk about Canada.

"I… I…." Prussia stuttered for a moment, something that rarely ever happened to an overconfident asshole such as himself. Romano's eyebrow rose as Prussia seemed to fight himself for an answer. This really was intriguing that a simple question was enough to faze him when threats of death and taunts could do nothing.

"I see… You got your disgusting little eyes on him don't you?"

"Vhat?! You liddle faggod! Vhere de fuck dit dat come from?! De guy is my fruend! I care for de same damn reason you voult care if I attackt Schpain!" After he made his point there was a five second pause before Romano burst out laughing. "Ach! Schud up! It's nod my fauld de only fruend you hev is Schpain! Oh vaid… You don'd efen hev _him_ now do you?!" Now it was Prussia's turn to laugh.

"That's not true! I have Canada…" _Well, not anymore probably…_

"Only because de liddle pansy is in…" Prussia paused to make a disgusted noise similar to hacking, "_Lof_ vid you!"

"Please can we get to why I fucking called!?" Romano desperately yelled, feeling his face get hot.

"Oh? You actually _hat_ von?"

"My brother is laying in bed, his heart _literally_ killing him."

"Vhat?" Prussia's voice was low and quiet, again something very uncustomary of him. He was worried.

"He doubts that he will live after Christmas."

"Vhat de fuck do you vant _me_ to do aboud it? Ahs you scheem to like poinding oud, I'm deat. Schtill awesome, bud deat. If you vant help I voult suggesd apologizing to _Westen_."

"I will **never** apologize to that potato freak!" Romano pounded his fist down on his desk, causing the cup full of pencils and pens on its corner to fall to the floor and spill its contents like spattered blood.

"Vell, den it's your own fauld your bruder is dying. Because it seems to me dat he is dying of a broken heard… Ahs gay ahs it is."

"You're an idiot you fucking kraut!"

"Unt you're a bidder liddle bitch dat coultn'd schtant for your bruder to be heppy. Dis is ahll your fauld unt you know it."

"Shut up!" The hot, traitorous tears built around his eyes even as he yelled many more obscenities at the Prussian. There was more screaming and name-calling but Prussia did not respond. In the end Romano slammed the phone down on its base and cried into his hands.

Sorrow wrenched at his heart, he didn't have Spain and his brother was dying. Germany was ignoring them both and was fine, Prussia, the fucking deadest of all of them, was still alive and well and lecturing him. He was probably never going to have Spain back, he knew this to be true but he didn't know if he could bare with the knowledge that _he_ was the reason his brother was dying.

In two months he had killed every chance he had of not being alone in this world…

---

Prussia closed his cell phone and pocketed it, looking down at the three dogs resting by his feet. Gilbird pecked at his hair as snow started to fall. This small park he had walked the dogs to was empty so no one had had to hear his phone conversation.

A smirk built on his face as he realized Romano was probably on the floor of his home crying. Jackass finally got what was coming to him. Well, not in full, he still deserved a good bullet to his head, but he figured that would come after Italy died. Neither he nor West would have to pull the trigger to make it even better. He laughed quietly to himself leaning down to pet each of the bitches between their ears. They were such good girls.

_What about Italy?_ Prussia liked the boy, his brother loved him. After Italy died he would be experiencing Romano's Hell then. But his brother would not die from it, he would get over it and perhaps be less of the man he was… This realization made the albino feel terrible for hoping for Italy's death only to make Romano miserable. His brother needed to loosen up and have more fun, but he knew it would _never_ happen after the boy died.

Pulling out his cellular again he typed in two familiar numbers, one he knew wouldn't be happy to hear his voice and the other wouldn't have heard it in a kind way in two years.

Each of them asked why he was calling. He responded the same way both times.

"Vant to come to a pardy tomorrow nighd?"

They both asked if there would be drinking.

"Of course, who do you dink I am?" He replied twice.

They both then said yes.

---

Germany flipped through the channels with the remote, he had been surprised to see that he had no meetings with his boss today _or_ paperwork. Usually he would be off training or doing _something_ by this time of day, but Japan had made that virtually impossible. Kiku had never been a fussy man, but he had _insisted_ that Ludwig do absolutely nothing all day. If he was trying to get him calm it wasn't working. All this served to do was make the man jittery.

Finally settling on a channel covering the situation in Italy he sighed and put the remote down. Really he found it irritating that the man seemed utterly incapable of handling anything without him around. He all out glared at the television screen.

"_Doitsu-san,_ I was thinking about…" Japan stopped his advance on the man on the sofa when he saw his face… Slowly, he turned to look at what it was he was glaring so intently at… The news… Suddenly he was very glad of his previous encounters with Alfred as he remembered the exact way to calm a person down! And exactly what channel to turn to in order to do this. Carefully, he crossed the German's line of view, he didn't even seem to notice the small Asian man was in the room. "Uhm, you wourdn't mind if…" Kiku hesitantly indicated the television remote.

Blinking, Ludwig slowly turned his head towards Kiku in his cuckoo clock fashion and rose an eyebrow in question. Upon assessing that the man wanted to change the channel a tic appeared between his brows.

"It's fine, I guess." He calmly responded before tensely sighing and pivoting his head back to watch the screen.

"Thank you…" Japan clicked a few buttons on the remote and an American channel appeared on screen. He then smiled when he realized Alfred's technique for lightening the mood was on in marathon format. _The Bold and the Beautiful_.

"I-Is dis a _soap opera_?" Ludwig asked, strain in his voice. Kiku nodded and settled in to watch. Conveniently for him, it was at the part of the series that he was current with. "You vatch dese?" Japan once again nodded, his eyes not leaving the screen as drama unfolded. "I neet beer…" Ludwig stood up and turned to head for the kitchen, only to be gently pushed back down by Japan who had jumped to his feet.

"Ret me get it. I wourd rike something to drink too." Quickly, he headed off for the kitchen as Germany was left to glare at the screen. Alfred must've been an idiot to produce a show like this… He tried in vain to ignore the storyline, but it wasn't long before he was sucked in by it.

Nervously, Japan poked his head into the living room to see if Germany was still in a state of utter hate. He sighed gratefully when he saw the German actually enjoying the television show. Sometimes he seriously thought Alfred was a genius.

Walking back to the couch, he held a glass of water in one hand and a couple cans of beer in the other, he plopped them both down in Germany's lap before resuming his spot on the couch next to him.

Germany opened the first can with his index finger and took drink, watching the soap. Japan just stared as if possessed, occasionally taking sips of his water. It was in this zombie-like state the two stayed for the better part of a half hour.

It seemed funny to Japan how the two of them both seemed intrigued by watching humans make bad decisions. Humans making bad decisions was usually devastating for the two of them so being able to see it in a less than harmful way to fully understand the problems _humans_ had was pleasant. Germany in particular, seemed intrigued by the relationship problems humans faced. It was almost as if he hadn't thought it possible for humans to be in his same situation.

They only watched for the better part of a half an hour because it was at the twenty-six minute mark that Prussia burst in through the front door.

"De awesome me is back!" Gilbert loudly announced, letting the dogs free of their leashes. "Hey! I sait I vas back! Do I ged no 'velcome home oh awesome bruder of mine'?"

Not tearing his eyes from the television screen as Gilbert waltzed into the room, Ludwig shook his head. His brow furrowing, Prussia snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, pouting.

"Do I ged a 'hey'?"

"Hey." Germany drained what was left of his first can, opening the next one a moment later. A strange noise that seemed to be a combination between gurgling and growling floated between the three men… Two of them turned to face Germany, the man it had apparently emanated from.

Still distracted by the drama on screen, it took Ludwig a moment to notice he was being stared at. He jumped at this realization and put down his can of beer, coughing into his hand a second later.

"I'm hungry." And off he went to his kitchen. Gilbert and Kiku shared a look then as a series of metallic clanks rang out from the kitchen. Germany's low hum began to flow from the other room. Chopping noises were next.

Kiku looked from the door of the kitchen to Gilbert again, his eyes imploring. A white eyebrow climbed his forehead as he stared back at him, briefly following his gaze to the entrance of the next room that now had sizzling sounds and a scent beginning to make itself known. The silent exchange ended with a nod of their heads and Gilbert following his brother into his usually spotless kitchen.

"Hey, _Westen_, how aboud _I_ make lunch?" Germany, still stirring whatever was frying in the pan in front of him, turned his head to look at his brother.

"You? You're kitting."

"Nope." Gilbert replied with a smirk firmly plastered to his face.

"You burn carrots in beer…" Ludwig was mystified every time his brother attempted to cook. It was as if the man had never in his 800 or so odd years learned the simple art of cooking for himself. It was basically an unstoppable onslaught of stupid that caused babies to cry several countries over whenever Gilbert picked up a frying pan. Quite possibly the only thing the man was able to make on his own without turning a kitchen into a variable war-zone was wurst. Toast somehow or another caused severed human hands to appear and cereal always ended up with milk dripping from the ceiling.

"Ah, come on, vhat ahre you makin'?"

"_Kasespätzle._"

"Oh!" Gilbert blew a raspberry and waved the blonde nation away from the stove, taking a hold of the frying pan and stealing the spatula. "I cahn make dat. Goh! Goh sid down unt enjoy your liddle soap opera." He smacked the back of Ludwig's shoulder with the flat of the spatula as the man grudgingly agreed and turned to leave the kitchen. Gilbert would had to have been blind to miss the glare he received from Ludwig after his brother seemed to notice the hot oil that had transferred from the spatula to the back of his shirt burned his skin. There was light grumbling and Gilbert only smiled as he looked down at the caramelizing onions.

The albino's smile widened when he saw Ludwig still made his _spätzle _byhand and had it pre-made. The blonde nation was such a perfectionist at times and always seemed to enjoy his work.

Slowly and quietly so only he could hear at first, he started to hum as he worked to make the rest of lunch.

Germany plopped down on the couch, picking up his beer and drinking once more. It didn't take long for Prussia to really get into cooking the blonde soon found out. His brother's deep (off key) purring voice sung from the kitchen within mere minutes. This same voice sang him to sleep many times in the past. Back when Prussia acted like the other brother he was and didn't trouble him as much.

Taking a final sip off his can, he sat it down and leaned back on the couch, watching as the day-time drama continued.

More rolled and hissed notes pleasantly met with Ludwig's ears as Gilbert _finally_ seemed to hit the correct key (and promptly fall it again). The song was familiar and he began to tiredly hum along with the deep voice. It really was soothing, strangely so, especially since Gilbert had such trouble remaining in key (artistic reorganization the ex-nation called it). Perhaps the only other person that was able to soothe him this easily with singing (and actually in key) was Italy. Ludwig's brow furrowed at the thought of the boy and just focused once more on the bad singing.

Once properly focused upon the voice, it did not take him long to fall asleep. A light snore accompanying his relaxed state.

Japan looked at him and smiled before looking back to the television as a dramatic plot twist was introduced. It worried him slightly that Germany had frown lines even in his sleep, he was obviously relaxed, but it always looked like something was troubling him. Maybe he should refer him to a spa of some sort? Didn't Finland have those Christmas saunas? Kiku nodded, deciding to suggest it to Ludwig once he awoke.

_  
Laughing, burning… Smoke? Beep, smoke…. More laughing… Curse, curse, fuck, fuck, fuck… What is that smell?_

Puroisen-sama _d… u need her… there?_

_No… Nod burn… Looks… ot._

_Liar. Wait, _Osten_, cooking… What is that smell?  
_

Germany took a deep breath, his eyes shut tight, that high beeping waling on his eardrums was not a good sign… What usually made that noise? What the Hell was up with that smell? The room smelled smoky and judging from how the couch was, Japan was no longer sitting next to him.

Hesitantly, afraid that he might find his house on fire, Germany pried open an eye. The room seemed intact, nothing was on fire and the ceiling wasn't collapsing above him, always a good sign. However, as his hearing's acuity slowly began to return, he could make out a lot of swearing… What didn't surprise him was that it was coming from his kitchen.

Finally it dawned upon him just what the high-pitched noise was. His fire alarm.

"_Preußen!_" Germany's voice boomed as he jumped up from his spot on the couch and stalked to the kitchen door. A muffled "oh shit" reached his ears as he walked into the room to see his brother leaning over something… Flaming… "_Was zum Teufel_!?"

Prussia turned to simper at Germany then, it was always wonderful to push his brother into using expletives (as long as he didn't get kicked out of the house later).

"Ah, _hallo Westen_-"

"How do you _burn_ _spätzle_?!You'fe been cooking id longer den I hev!" Surveying the state his kitchen was in did _not_ make the already teed off German any happier. _Somehow_ or another there were onions stuck to the ceiling, a shattered mixing bowl full of… _Something_, strewn about the floor, not even mentioning the flaming dish of what was supposed to be _spätzle _and cheese.

"Hey now, _creading_ a foot is nod de same ding ahs--pud de rivle down!" Germany had no intention of firing it, it wasn't even loaded, hitting him with it, now that was an entirely different story.

"_Wenn ich dich in die Finger bekomme…_" He growled in the back of his throat, it would be enough to scare Berlitz to death, Prussia, on the other hand, stood his ground.

"_Kesesesese, willst du kämpfen_?" The shorter of them taunted as Ludwig rolled the rifle in his hand to better club his brother in the temple with.

"_Darauf kannst du deinen Arsch verwetten._" The younger let a ghost of a smile come to his lips, he really was Prussia's little brother! His hands tightened on the gun, eager to put it to use. A wide smirk blossomed over Prussia's face, reaching back, he pulled a pair of leather gloves out of his pocket and slipped them on.

Japan, who had been standing in the kitchen the whole time, mostly crying over his undone work, stepped out of the way. It was time for a brotherly tussle and getting in between two Germans and their brawn was not advised. Slipping around the perimeter of the room, he managed to escape before the noises of two colliding men began to emanate from the war-zone. Quickly he started down the hallway, there would be much to clean after a few minutes, a first aid kit would probably be needed too.

The sound of a man being brutally bludgeoned with the butt of a gun made Kiku wince, a strange noise soon followed, it sounded like groaning metal. An angry German response was spat, by whom, Kiku really couldn't tell as the brother's voices were quite similar if the pitch was altered.

After extricating the first aid kit from the bathroom cabinets, Japan headed back to the room adjacent the kitchen. Noises of the most unpleasant proportions were still being vomited from the room with a generous helping of curses slathered upon them in the most uncouth way imaginable. It was hard to believe Germans had _that_ many ways of telling someone they were worth nothing.

Taking a deep breath and sighing, Kiku sat back down on the couch as the sounds of _something_ being eviscerated from its proper place rang from the kitchen. There was a smug laugh, something hissed in German, more cursing and further sounds of a fight. Japan was just content to watch _The Bold and Beautiful_ until it was all over.

---

"_Fratello…_ Lovino? Are you still here?!" Italy whined from bed. Since the yelling had stopped about an hour ago he hadn't heard anything from his brother. Not a door opening or closing, no one walking around. He was beginning to worry. Against his better judgment, Italy pushed himself up from bed. Instantly, he was surprised by the pain his joints carried and how much noise they made when told to work.

Getting his feet to the floor had turned out to be a Mount Everest of an endeavor, standing, now that was going to be an entire range of mountains he was sure. Only slightly did his thoughts drift to where the doctor was when he was undoubtedly supposed to be back by now. Forgetting any thought of help getting out of bed, he shoved himself to his feet with a quick jerk. A jerk that caused painful spasms all over his body, all making sure to lance through his chest before dying. He stumbled forward into the wall and supported himself against it, pounding his fist lightly in frustration. Tears came, but no sobs followed, crying helped nothing.

Determined to at least make it to Romano's office door, he took a painful step, then another. Soon he was out of the bedroom and in the hall.

_Just a few more feet!_ He eagerly urged his legs on, leaning against the wall for support. Knowing he could do it, sure that he could do something for himself for once, he reached out and grabbed the doorknob. With a quick twist a feeling of accomplishment, he had the door open and was free to view his brother on the floor, his head in his hands.

"Lovino?" Realizing that talking to his brother while he was in a state of emotional overload was potentially hazardous to his health, he took a slight step back so his body was behind the wall, only his head poking into the office. The older Italian's head shot up, his eyes were red and puffy from crying.

Romano wiped his eyes with his arm and sniffled once before daring to look at his brother.

"W-What do you want Feliciano?"

"Brother, what's wrong?" Veneziano lightly asked, moving into the room a bit more after seeing his brother wasn't feeling hostile.

"Nothing!" Romano's statement was quickly discounted as a hiccup and a sniffle broke through his attempts at reassurance.

"Is it about Antonio?" Feliciano hesitantly asked, taking a jerking step forward.

"No it's not about fucking Antonio! Leave me alone and worry about yourself for once!"

"What's the matter then?" Another step, his knee popped and his hips threatened to floor him.

"Are you deaf now? I said leave me alone Veneziano!" Lovino paused and sniffled again, wiping his eyes before continuing. "You shouldn't even be out of bed."

"Do you want me to call Antonio?"

"What is your problem?!" Romano jumped to his feet, advancing on the younger of the twins. "You're dying and you are still-" He cut himself off and gesticulated wildly at nothing. "Like this! Your health is of more importance right now than my personal life! We already have a date for me to see Spain anyway… So…" Lovino averted his gaze as Feliciano's hurt eyes burned into him. He hated how looking away didn't affect anything as he could still feel palpable waves of hurt assaulting him as they rolled off his brother.

"I don't care about my health when you're unhappy brother. I hate to see you sad… Ah! When Germany is upset, he takes his dogs for a walk! Or just goes for a run!" Some of his bright enthusiasm returned at mentioning the strict man. "You should just go for a walk! It might help… Since I can't do anything for you…"

_This man…_ Romano thought for the first time since reaching adulthood, _is a fucking angel._ And suddenly… He really was sorry for everything that had happened… He hated himself for the jealousy that drove him to drive a wedge between two people who obviously needed each other. More hate for what he had forced Canada to do, the man who had suffered more than he ever had because he helped him that first day. Even though he knew the blonde was just as much to blame as he was (in some ways) he still felt like a monster. And then Spain's apology… All this time, all these stupid things that had occurred, slowly digging his grave deeper, why had he acted the way he had? Why hadn't he been hurt more than this angel that stood before him? Everything that he had done seemed only to serve to hurt the people he cared the most about.

Like so many times over the past week, there were more tears. Slowly, he embraced his brother as gently as he could muster.

"I'm sorry." Lovino stepped back and covered his face, looking away from Feliciano's innocence, a dirty feeling settling over his skin like a thin layer of suffocating ash.

"Ve, sorry for what?"

"For everything… This is my fault… But I don't know what to do now…"

---

The total injuries; one broken nose, a black eye, a smashed finger or two, two severely swollen cheeks, bleeding knuckles and a multitude of bruises. Total casualties; a refrigerator door handle, two spatulas, a wooden spoon, a twisted beyond recognition carving knife, a bag of potato starch and one assault rifle with a knot strangely tied in its barrel, a carrot sticking out of its mouth.

Blood smeared across the floor and mixed with the batter of whatever it was Prussia had been making prior to the brother's roughhousing. White covered most of the counter space and the smell of burning _spätzle_ still hung in the air. The Germans on the other hand? Kiku was busy tending to the broken nose of the older brother, Ludwig merely held an icepack to his face where Gilbert had managed to punch the living Hell out of him. He was also coated from the waist up in potato starch, if Alfred saw him he would've run for the hills.

"Was that any way to behave the day before a party?" Japan attempted to admonish Prussia first.

"Ve're bruders of course it vas. Damn fun too, eh, _Westen_?" He laughed to himself despite the pain it caused in his nose. Germany nodded in agreement, it was fun to just let go every-now-and-then. Japan didn't seem amused with this, he was _supposed_ to be the responsible one. He should at least feel some regret. It was his own kitchen they made a minefield of! After he had spent so long cleaning the house…

"Unfortunadely dough, I neet to take anoder schowver." The blonde mussed his hair slightly, watching the fine powder float from his head to the already coated floor. Kiku made sure to note the relaxed tone in his voice. The fight apparently had been just what he needed, he gave Gilbert a pointed look.

"Say, _Westen_, hev you decitet vheder or nod Italy is coming to de pardy tomorrow?" Prussia asked in a conversational tone, holding back a sneeze.

Germany seriously seemed to consider the question for a moment. Really everything he was angry at the boy over seemed so petty. He still wasn't sure if he was ready to admit he was wrong to the man yet. If Italy showed up, he wouldn't kick him out, but he wasn't going to invite him either. Once again, he was a stubborn man.

"Achoo! Agh! Goddammid!" Prussia glared down at the blood coating his gloves. His nose was a virtual faucet for the stuff! Germany couldn't suppress an amused snort. Japan wrinkled his nose in a slightly disgusted face, more blood still dripped down to the white floor, turning the starch on it a bright red. He was going to have to scrub this place down so hard… Or maybe he would just make Germany do it… It wasn't his house really and the other nation did complain earlier when he was cleaning…

Turning to ask Germany what to do about the kitchen, Japan stopped just as his mouth opened. The smile that had previously adorned the German's face was gone and he seemed deep in thought. As long as he wasn't irritated whatever he was thinking about was fine but… There was a certain softness to the pensive expression.

What was he thinking of?

Or who was he thinking of?

Ludwig groaned after a few more seconds and pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling something to himself. Neither of his guests quite caught what it was but it must've been important because of the face he made shortly after. He looked serious, but not angry.

"Bruder, help him clean up. I vill take a schowver _und_…"

"_Und_?" Prussia asked, accentuating his D slightly.

"Noding." Ludwig answered after a moment of silence.

"Noding?"

"_Noding_." He gave his older brother a forceful, but playful shove as he stood up. Then he stared at the carpet of the next room over… No way in Hell was he walking over that wonderfully clean space _covered_ in potato starch. Having already made a terrible mess of this kitchen he did not wish to make Japan's gracious services any harder than they needed to be…

"It can't be gotten around. Go on, it's fine." Japan sighed, giving up on keeping the rest of Germany's house spotless.

"Euh, if you say soh…" Really, he was reluctant to set foot outside the linoleum-floored room where all things could be easily mopped or swept up coated in a fine powdery substance… Taking a deep breath, he took a step, nearly cringing at the sight of all the starch falling from his frame and to the helpless floor. It was like murdering children! With this thought in mind, he began a slow trek to the bathroom, an adventure that took a little over five minutes.

Gilbert laughed while Kiku glared at him and resisted the urge to smack him.

---

"He invited you too?"

"Yep."

"Ya think he invited Spain as well?"

"Probably, we three haven't gotten together to cause havoc in awhile now." America winced at the thought of another Christmas party with France… But he felt obligated to go since Matthew had been invited too and had told Prussia that he was going to be there… He couldn't leave his little brother unprotected with that obvious sexual deviant around, he glanced at the man in bed for a moment. England had left a little while ago, his boss had called a meeting with him that he couldn't get out of. This left Alfred and Francis practically alone since Kumajiro had no reason to attempt to talk to them (the bear couldn't carry a conversation anyway) and Matthew was out cold.

"If Spain comes though, don't you think that, I dunno, maybe the Italys will show up too? I mean…" Alfred made an "iffy" motion with his left hand.

"You have a point there… But Romano is still on bad terms with Antonio from what I last heard. Italy has divorced from Germany so he's no doubt sore about that since I heard he didn't want to. Fairly good assumption they won't turn up." Suddenly, Alfred's face seemed pensive, not a commonly seen expression now that Francis thought about it.

"Hey... You and mom... Are you officially back together yet?" Francis sighed and frowned slightly.

"No, we barely got our clothes off before I pissed him off. I commented on his eyebrows." Alfred laughed, the perverted nation had known Arthur for centuries and still somehow managed to screw up pillow talk every time. As America's laugh quieted, his traditional megawatt smile stayed plastered to his face.

"We draggin' Iggy with us?" Francis smirked at his older son and made a flowing motion with his hands.

"Would you expect anything less _mon cher_?" It was clear just _who_ Alfred got his habits of annoying Arthur from…

---

Gilbert felt like a schoolboy sitting in the chair opposite Ludwig's desk. Which was really odd considering that the man had never been to school a in his life. For whatever reason the now squeaky-clean nation had for calling him into his office and _locking_ the door, he was quickly growing nervous.

"Vhat vas it you vandet to talk to me aboud?" Gilbert asked after Ludwig had remained silent for a good twenty seconds, his eyes closed and his face resting on his interlaced fingers.

"You know vhat Italy tolt me righd?" So it was about that.

"Nod exacdly… Bud I cahn guess."

"How long hev you known?" Ludwig did not look up to meet Gilbert's surely judging gaze.

"I hev suspecdet for years now… Bud, he tolt me straighd oud yesterday morning. I sorda god it oud of him vhile you vere in de hospidal, bud he vas being difficuld den." Ludwig made a noise of discomfort and shifted in his seat slightly, this caused a smirk to pull at the sides of Gilbert's mouth. "Soh, back to vhat I vas saying earlier…"

"Gilbert." Ludwig lifted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"Noh, noh, ve _neet _to talk aboud dis."

"Noh, ve don'd."

"Vell, vhy de Hell dit you call me in heir den? Hm?"

"I-I… Mng…" Ludwig was at a loss for words, he wanted to talk about this subject… But at the same time, it was embarrassing and not a conversation to have with one's brother… Who else did he have though?

"Look, efen if you don'd feel de same vay aboud de man, aht leasd schtop being…" The last time this conversation occurred it ended with him being called many unpleasant names and kicked out of the house… Perhaps a little bit of language editing was in order. "Try to schtop…" This was more difficult than Canada had ever made it look. Oh to Hell with it. "You're being an idiot, okay? Now before you schtard your yelling und pusching me avay, you hev to admid dat my brilliand obserfation _hes_ valididy. Vhy ahre you soh mad aht Italy to begin vid?" Ludwig's brow furrowed as he opened his mouth to surely let loose a slue of reasons why he was better off without the man, but Gilbert spoke faster and louder. "Und! You cahnnod say dings dat hev been presend since you med de boy ahs you obfiously hev to deal vid it alreaty." The angry furrow in Germany's brow stayed put, but he did not speak. If anything now, he was pensive.

"_Osten_, vhy ahre you soh… Mng… You'fe been acding schtrange. More, mature perhaps?" Ludwig observed with a slightly risen and dubious eyebrow.

_Avoiding the answer…_ "Trusd me, dis is ahll going oud de vindow ahs soon ahs possible. I von'd hev to be responsible for (hopefully) anoder tvendy years ahvder dis." Gilbert mussed his own hair and sighed, perhaps he preferred things when he didn't have to think. It was just so much easier to threaten people into obeying you and not worry about how they felt… Maybe he was becoming human or something. He laughed that off within seconds, nations, once they became nations, could never go back to being human, even if they wanted to.

"I dink… I dink I feel de schame vay." Ludwig mumbled suddenly, averting his eyes. A smirk pulled at Gilbert once more and he couldn't resist. It was obvious that the two had changed subjects once again. Germany no longer seemed angry, instead he was embarrassed and ashamed. It was hilarious to see his brother reduced to this, cute in some immature way as well.

"Dat exschplains vhy you don'd like de vort 'faggod'." He laughed to himself as Ludwig, his embarrassment momentarily forgotten, narrowed his eyes and unlaced his hands. The fight earlier was still making him calm, but he wouldn't hesitate to floor his brother. "My bruder! Finally in lof." Now Germany's face was a fine beet red once more. "I nefer doughd I'd see de day." Prussia continued on in a sing-songy kind of voice. "Nefer really doughd I'd see de day vhen you voult lof a man, bud vhatefer."

"It's nod anyvon's fauld dat you are only… Receptife of vemen." Ludwig said, trying to swat down some of the butterflies running amok in his gut.

_That's what you think…_ Gilbert sniggered. "'Receptife'. Interesding vocabulary _Westen."_

"De vorts you voult hev ust ahre… _Vulgar._" Gilbert laughed at this observation, pulling a smile from his otherwise grim brother. "Bud… Vhat aboud you?"

"Vhat aboud me?"

"Do you… Ehrm… 'Hev your eye' on somevon recendly?" Ludwig awkwardly asked, he and his brother so rarely seemed civil to one another and asked each other such simple questions. This whole, brother-brother talk-thing was not a common occurrence.

"I don'd dink soh… Vell, nod recendly…" And yes, the man was being truthful, it hadn't been _recently,_ but for quiet some time. Gilbert watched as Ludwig sucked on the inside of his cheek for a second before his eyes floated to the window, it had taken them both a while to clean the kitchen, even with Japan's help. In fact, Kiku was most likely still scrubbing the blood off the floor or trying to reattach the broken refrigerator-door handle. The sunset behind Ludwig's head spilled pleasantly into the room between the two men, it gave this whole thing a sort of ethereal quality… Prussia soon found his thoughts drifting to Canada, only a few more hours… He sighed, standing.

_God, when did this happen?_ "If dat's ahll you vantet to talk aboud, I vill leaf now…"

"_Osten_… I vantet to ahsk… Vhat do you dink I schoult do? I hev… No experience vid dis sord of ding." Prussia laughed in his usual cackling way.

"Do you _honestly_ dink dat _I_ hev experience vid lof? I'fe nefer been marrit und de only voman I efer dit lof marrit Specs." Gilbert's face seemed remorseful for just a moment, maybe it was a trick of the orange light over his skin. Usually it was an unspoken rule not to speak of Hungary except for business reasons between the two. It was, surprisingly, still a sore point with the ex-nation. "I don'd know how to help you vid dis von _Westen_. Ahll de tail I'fe been gedding ofer de years hes been from von floozy or anoder. Dey're all deat now of course, really a loss to the prostitution vorld some of dem, bud I'fe nefer hat sex vid somevon I'fe--" He cut himself off again to snort bitterly, "_loft._" Ludwig frowned, his brother didn't seem the slightest bit angry or sad about that, he seemed totally neutral, as if it was just an everyday occurrence. "Belief me _Westen_--" He laughed in his more usual fashion. "if I coult help, I voult. I raist you like a son und I only vant to see you heppy." This was getting too touching, Prussia was the one _saying_ the goddamn words and he was on the verge of puking.

"Dat's schtrangely sendimendal, ahre you aboud to keel ofer?"

"I'm gedding dere." The silverette responded with a sour look contorting his face. "Oh, by de vay, Schpain und France ahre coming to de pardy." He unlocked the door and dashed from the room the moment Germany stood and slammed his fists on the desk.

Evil, cackling laughter rang throughout the house, the powerful sounds of two German's chasing one another in heavy boots accompanying it.

Kiku only sighed, occasionally he wished he had such interesting relatives.

---

A ways from Germany, on the other side of France in Spain, Antonio was contemplating the party tomorrow. Maybe, if Germany was in a good mood, Feliciano would be there… Maybe he would bring Lovino with him… Originally he had planned to give the brothers a visit on Christmas. Even if it would potentially mean him meeting this other guy Lovino had fallen in love with. What was his name? Can-something? Maybe he should consult a map…

Either way, this party would be good for him. He and Prussia hadn't had one of their fun times together in quite some time. France was going to be there too, their trio of mischief would be complete! Spain smiled, maybe, if the Italy twins didn't come, they could all run over to Rome and pop by the brothers' house to bother them.

His brow furrowed, with the three of them, he could also give this Can-person a piece of his mind. Whoever he was… What did he look like? Was he sexier than himself? Was he taller? Shorter? What had he done to get_ Lovino_ of all people to love him so quickly!? It was blasphemy! Lovino was his and _his_ alone! Nobody else could have him! By God when he met this little fucker he was going to beat his ass to a finely grained pulp before sweeping Lovino off his feet and kissing him like he had never been kissed before!

But then that would be acting like Prussia… And last he checked, acting like Prussia in a social situation concerning personal feelings and vital regions was not a good thing… Oh, what was a man _still_ in very passionate love with another to do…? Act like France? He contemplated that for second… No.

What a quandary he found himself in… Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that _something_ big was going to happen tomorrow. Whether he himself was going to be personally involved or not he could not say.

Putting his pen down on his paperwork and yawning widely, he decided it was best to retire early this particular evening. If this "big" event he felt coming on was truly to occur tomorrow, he would need plenty of rest.

It was still a common habit of his to reach for the phone before going to bed every night. And it was all too common that his hand managed to get the phone to his ear before he remembered that Lovino would not answer if his number appeared on the ID. Occasionally, earlier after the war had ended, Feliciano would answer only be yelled at by his brother to hang up. Eventually, even Feliciano stopped answering the phone and he was left with only a voicemail that told him to go away. He groaned unhappily and dropped the receiver back to the base.

He wondered vaguely if he would dream of Lovino tonight as he commonly had since the war had ended, they were more common during the war when he realized how he was hurting him… Some nights, the dreams had pushed him to tears. He would then by yelled at by his superior that this was a fight between Spain and Italy, not Antonio Carriedo, Lovino and Feliciano Vargas.

Mostly he hoped that Lovino understood this as Feliciano occasionally seemed to. It had badly disappointed him and broken his heart when he learned that his Lovi had taken this all too personally.

Sighing, he dragged his shirt off over his head and dropped it carelessly to the floor, remembering what Lovino would have said about his laziness. A small smile pulled at his lips and he dropped his pants too, leaving both articles of clothes in a dejected pile.

The bed he slept in always seemed so empty now… One last thought of Lovino and he was asleep, lost in the world of dreams that probably would never come true if things continued the way they had.

---

The next morning was a decidedly livelier one in the Vargas household. Romano had arisen early, making sure to drag Veneziano out after him. After much yelling and threats he managed to get his brother to his feet and moving. As long as he was moving, all was good. It was clear as the circles beneath the brunette's eyes though, that he really didn't have much time. They both had to get to Spain as soon as possible… So, Romano had decided last night that _today_ was going to be the day to see Antonio.

First however, Feliciano wanted breakfast, so did Lovino, so they both sat at the table together and ate breakfast. There was no conversation, none of the usual compliments about cooking and no fanciful thoughts of the day ahead.

"Feliciano, I've been thinking… Maybe you won't be able to come with me tomorrow… If you are feeling as bad as you say… And look…" Lovino approached the subject of seeing Spain that evening. Feliciano lifted his head to look at his brother. He had barely touched his breakfast and was, for the most part, just poking it around the plate.

"What is it brother?"

"I think that I should stop wasting our time and see Antonio today." A bright smile broke out over the Italian's face, it was almost enough to distract one from the fact the man looked half-dead.

"That's great! I can't wait!" Really the excitement was genuine, but it was still hard for Feliciano to keep his face up when he was so tired and the very muscles of his face protested. His heart jumped in his chest. "Ah!" He curled in on himself to protect from the pain, only to smash his forehead directly into his plate and the food upon it.

The organ squirmed and protested, torturing his lungs and pressing the air from them as rapid spasms broke out in his chest. It wasn't just his heart this time though, it was every muscle in his chest, contracting and squeezing his ribs, depriving him of the air he needed.

"Feliciano!" Lovino jumped up from his seat and rushed to catch him before he fell backwards off the bar stool. His brother's fingers clawed at his shirt, gripping whatever he could in some desperate attempt to hang on to consciousness. "Don't you dare pass out on me! Stay awake you fucking asshole!"

His muscles slacked and let go, gracious air quickly sucked into the starving lungs as his intercostals expanded his chest. There were several tense minutes of just pure breathing and holding on to Lovino. As usual now, tears were not forthcoming and his face remained dry. It was very wise of Lovino to switch the date of their visit to today, because now Feliciano was not sure if Christmas was going to be a very merry one anymore.

---

France patted Canada on the shoulder.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Canada nodded, pulling on a jacket. "I mean… It _was_ Gilbert that told you were invited… He's a big practical jokester… But you know that." Matthew sighed and ruffled his own hair.

"I'm sure I want to go Papa. Germany was nice enough to invite me and I'm sure even if Gilbert was lying that he would much prefer my company to yours." It wasn't meant in a hurtful way, it was just he heard what had happened last time Francis had taken part in a Christmas party at Germany's. Francis knew this and simply chuckled.

"I guess you're right. America is dragging Mama with us today just so you know. I think he and Prussia need to get back to how it used to be with them. That way, on drinking nights, if we ever establish those properly once more, I get to see a drunken Arthur again." That predatory glint in France's eyes at that moment made Canada jump.

"I'm pretty sure Mama would not like that if you raped him. I mean he might love you, but it only goes so far…" _It's all fun and games until someone ends up tied to a bedpost. _Francis snorted and mumbled something about silk ties in a childish way.

After setting up dates for Canada's physical therapy (which thankfully would help him regain full use of his left hand) the two nations departed from the hospital for Germany. Vaguely Matthew wondered how Alfred was going to persuade Arthur to go to a party tonight, but after a little thinking he decided it was best not to.

"Oh, wait..." Canada stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, holding Kumajirou to his chest, his face reflected his deep thought. France tweaked an eyebrow and looked back at him, stopping also.

"What is it?"

"Hmm... I think... I should get something from my house before we go to Germany..." Francis examined the look on Matthew's face then, it looked pained and remorseful. As if what he was thinking was letting down someone else. France had seen that look before and frowned too, touching a metal lump through his coat at his belt-line.

"A little bit of insurance?" He asked knowingly.

Matthew nodded solemnly, clutching Kumajirou ever tighter to him. He sniffled, "Yeah, a little bit of insurance..."

---

To answer Canada's unspoken questions of exactly how America was going to get England to come with him, there was a lot of yelling, a fist fight, and bulky twine.

A broken nose and several punches later, Alfred was satisfied with his work. Boy scouts had really paid off in all that knot tying!

"Agh! Ya sodding twat untie me! I swear I'll-" At this point, Alfred tuned out the Brit, Arthur had a great knack of coming up with some of the oddest of threats, sometimes they involved magic which made the blonde nation question his "mother's" sanity. "Yer comin' t' this party whether you want to or not! Besides, there's plenty of alcohol. Sooo…. You'll want to."

More grumbling, threats and mentions of fairies coming to pull out Alfred's nose hairs in the night ensued before Alfred finally just tossed the man over his shoulder and waltzed right out of the house with him.

It was quite a scene outside as a multitude of the smaller nation's inhabitants watched as America kidnapped him to have a good time… The irony of this seemed lost on many people.

---

Spain had done well to arrive early at the German's house, Gilbert had attempted to cook pancakes or something that morning and they were once again in need of impressive janitorial skills. Two of which had these, Antonio was not one of them, but Gilbert needed someone to sit around with and laugh at them.

There were no words about the state the two brothers were in as it was more than obvious they had gotten into a few fist-fights in the past day or so.

So that morning carried on with relatively little trouble. Little did they know that it was going to be a very stark contrast to the atmosphere later that day. Neither of the nations both present at the house and not would ever have suspected what was to unfold mere hours later.

-----

Notes:

_The Bold and The Beautiful_--An American soap opera serial that has been going on for some years… I don't have to say anymore and you cannot make me.

Severed human hands--Foamy the squirrel anybody? XD

Spätzle--Commonly spelled Spaetzle in America, is a kind of egg noodle/dumpling-esque food item eaten in Germany. It goes by other names as well such as Spätzli in Northern Germany; Nockerln and Knöpfle in parts of Southern Germany and Austria; and Knöpfli in Switzerland.

Kasespätzle--Basically spätzle with cheese, fried onions are also part of it.

"800 or so years"--To be current with Gilbert's age he's about 809 years old. But this is counting the Germanic tribe of Old Prussians back in 1200. If you want to even count Northern March as part of his history (which I don't since it doesn't bare the name Prussia and I think it's more part of Brandonberg's history [correct me if I am wrong]) he is about 1044 years old. Yes, I am fully aware that Old Prussians was taken over by the Teutonic knights (which is part of Gilbert's recorded past) but I thought of that as more of as the state was Germanicized that's when the Gilbert we know and love truly started forming as a person although he may have been a child at the time. (bit of a faulty history lesson there maybe, SOMEONE IF YOU KNOW THE PROPER HISTORY OF THESE STATES _PLEASE_ CORRECT ME!)

Was zum Teufel--What the fuck?!

Wenn ich dich in die Finger bekomme--When I get you in these fingers… (I believe this is the direct translation) it is the German way of saying "When I get my hands on you…"

Kesesesese, willst du kämpfen--Kesesesese, you want to fight?

Darauf kannst du deinen Arsch verwetten--You can bet your ass on it.

Und--And (lolz)

I think that's all… Okay… Questions, a few actually, 1) why are some of the best words meaning something bad? For example, Eviscerate, awesome word, Bludgeon, another awesome word, they sound good! Why do they have to mean things like to disembowel or beat brutally with an object? 2) has anyone here ever had to sneeze when you had a nosebleed? Holicrap, I never have because I don't commonly get them, but my brother one morning sneezed in my bathroom when he had a nose bleed and he didn't clean it up (disgusting I know) I thought someone had been murdered! 3) Why must some of my references be so obscure/in depth? Sometimes I think I think a bit too much for my own good.

This is the second to last chapter… Yes 18 will be the last chapter (actually part of the storyline). Do you know what that means? Do my poll on my page, that's what it means ßshameless advertising-- for I do not want to have to pick myself, for I have trouble making decisive decisions concerning artistic expression, ask my art teacher.

Sorry this is very late, I meant to post it last night but there were… Distractions, mainly distractions that happened with two other people in a car. GET YOUR MIND OUT THE GUTTER!! My friends and I were out driving all night going to movies confusing cashiers at Taco-bells and buying pets and supplies for them. All the while listening to 60s and 70s music XD yes, last night was fun and I put off finishing this until this morning, which in about twenty minutes I have to leave in order to pick up the same people plus one other to go wreak more havoc. So, while I am off dealing with the crazy people I do, what I left you is a wonderful chapter to enjoy. Oh btw, expect a huge authors note after the last chapter… And maybe a little oneshot since one relationship I really want to go deeper into (but will not) gets its obligatory sex-scene. YES! THERE IS SEX IN THE LAST CHAPTER KIDDIES! 8DDDDD can you tell I'm excited? I can tell I am. Lol, I'll stop wasting your time go read summore fan fictions XD.


	18. Aftermath XVIII End

Omgs, last chapter… Lolz, it has been so long since I started this and so many times getting sick, I was sick even for thanksgiving! I don't know, maybe stress of senior year is getting to me, do you guys think maybe? I dunno, either way, this is the last chapter and I certainly hope that you enjoy it. I can't believe it! There just aren't ways to express… I'll just let you read it kay?

-----

"You're drinking already?" The tone was more one of amused curiosity than dissent.

"Of course. _Westen_ boughd _de_ mosd cheap bier he coult und I'm nod allowt to drink de goot schtuff tonighd." Prussia explained to Spain who sat next to him on the couch. "You vant von?" Gilbert sloshed a full can in front of the dark-haired nation. Antonio chuckled and declined with a smile.

"Suid yourselv." The silver-haired albino snorted, opening the can with his index finger and sipping from it.

Japan, sitting in an armchair, not four feet from the two, had a look of slowly building anger in his eyes. A broom was not far… One solid whack and he would have the ex-nation down for the count.

"Prussia, do you _hev_ to make a mess bevor sunsed?" Germany growled lightly as he kicked a can or two around on the floor.

"Yes, _Westen_ it is a requirmend dat I be drunk bevor ef'ryvon else." Ludwig rolled his eyes and snatched the can from his brother's hand. "Hey!"

"I neet it more dan you do." His voice sounded almost angry, but mostly it just sounded depressed. Germany quickly sucked down the can and crushed it against his forehead with a grace only he could accomplish. Prussia made a noise in the back of his throat in appreciation. No one, but perhaps his little brother, could make smashing a can of crappy beer look so artful.

Spain only looked on in amusement, things wouldn't get better until much later if he knew anything. Once other nations began to arrive and maybe a human or two, that was when their fun would begin, of course they needed to wait for France too.

An over-enthusiastic banging came at the door then. A smirk played its way over the albino's lips and he slowly laughed, "I dink you do too."

Germany pinched the bridge of his nose, wandering to the door to answer it. He could hear the two guests' animated conversation from behind the heavy door. Heaven only know what it must've looked like or _sounded_ like from the street. The banging came again as Germany opened the door, catching America's fist before it came down on his face.

"_Hallo_ America." Germany said pleasantly. The American grinned and greeted him like an old friend, slapping him on the shoulder as he laughed his likewise salutation. Germany wasn't paying attention to him, though. He was more interested in the 134 pounds of England thrown over the young man's shoulder.

"Put me down ya bloody Yankee! Wot's th' use in keepin' me up 'ere if we're at the soddin' party?!" America, seeing logic in this, put the man down, still tied. There was a big smile on his face as he patted the shorter man's shoulder.

"How've you been Germany?" America asked as the older blonde pulled a knife from his pocket and cut the twine from England.

"I'fe been bedder, bud I'm doing fine."

"Well, I'm glad t'hea-" Alfred found himself falling down, off the stairs of the stoop as Arthur's fist met his face. Ludwig stared at them as Arthur yelled some very unflattering things, to which, Alfred stood and yelled back equally vulgar imagery. A headache was coming on by this point, but Germany, typical to form, kept his cool. It took a severe blow as the two squabbling blondes began to attract attention, though.

"Cahn you two continue dis 'confersation' insite? Vhere noh von cahn see you?" The two nations looked at him then, both equally at a loss. That was until America seemed to have a light bulb blink on above his head.

"Be happy to!" he sped up the stairs, grabbing both the men and slamming the door behind them.

"Geh your 'ands offa me!" England threw America from him, grumbling sourly.

"Hey, Arthur!" Gilbert greeted, shaking his can merrily at him. The blonde responded by stalking over and snatching the can from his hand and finishing it for him. "Vhat de fuck is vid people taking my bier!?" The albino snorted and got up to get another from the cooler, Arthur following

"Stupid American." Arthur growled and picked up a beer, traveling back to the couch with Gilbert to drink with him. Antonio had been silent, watching with his usual smile and amusement, he didn't really feel like speaking. Gilbert knew this as odd as usually he _loved_ to talk. But then again, France wasn't here, the two of them hadn't been on speaking terms for some time and so, had no idea what to talk about beyond the usual small talk. Once France got there and everyone else, things would pick up. He had a plan!

Germany, upon seeing them all on his couch and drinking, Gilbert and Arthur seemingly reacquainting themselves with one another he remembered something he had to say. Slowly, tiredly more like, he marched over to them, leaving America to stare quietly across the room at the Japanese man in the armchair. The blonde positioned himself in front of them, his mere board-straight posture alerted the three nations to the fact that he had something to say.

"Dis more goes for Gilbert since he alvays seems to be de ringleater of de schenanigans vhen you dree, Schpain, Prussia und France of course, ahre togeder… By de vay you **vill** tell him vhen he geds here, noh molesding de oder guesds." Gilbert laughed and waved him off.

"Sure _Westen_ sure!" Germany knew his brother wouldn't listen, it was even less likely that France would, so why did he still bother telling him this rule? Fair warning? The German rubbed his temples, dealing with the idiocy that was to sure ensue tonight was definitely _not_ on the doctors list of low-stress activities.

"Don't worry Germany. If you take Prussia 'ere I'll watch the frog." Arthur offered and took another swig of beer. There was a look that he should've been allowed to bring his own with him, but he was currently trying to be nice to Ludwig.

Germany sighed, nodding his head, "De help vill be appreciatet, _danke schön._"

"No problem." Another beer gone and the Brit was up again, stopping to look between Alfred and Kiku as they stared. Shrugging, he cut off their line of sight, Japan, taking advantage of this and looking away, a blush working at his face.

Alfred didn't seem to even notice and looked away too, Antonio and Gilbert watched with interest. At that moment they were most likely thinking the same thing.

_Just fuck him already._ Antonio's thoughts were slightly less vulgar, but still along the same lines. The three upon the couch began to chat to one another, mostly all Japan was doing was the dance with the American's eyes. America would look and he would look away to stare at something else or comment on the conversation. Then he would look back at him and catch Alfred staring, to which the blonde would then look away and continue his conversation. Then they both would look at each other at the same time and look away simultaneously. Germany thought them exactly like school children. He didn't know how to approach the situation with Japan, though he wanted to help. He didn't know what to do in general in "party situations" if what they currently had going was in fact one. Usually, Italy was around to help…

_Don't think of him now, just concentrate… Look, what are they saying? Maybe you can talk about it too! … Never mind, I don't want to try. _These were the predominant thoughts in the blondes head, he was adrift in a sea that was the social situation and no one was willing to throw him a life-raft. So, he did what he did best in these situations, retreated to his kitchen and chose to bake a cake.

"_Westen!_" There was the sound of a crash from the other room as Ludwig kneaded the dough between his floury hands… Picking up the dough, he walked into the family room, still kneading it. The occupants of the room were all laughing, he was pretty sure he even heard Japan's voice.

"Vhat dit you do now?" A mountainous pile of discarded cans completely engulfed the drunken albino. Alfred had started drinking, and Antonio with him. Whoever's bright idea it had been to stack all the spent cans on the table next to the couch hadn't considered that gravity was against them 110 percent. "You are cleaning dat up." His hands still worked at the sticky ball swallowing them, he needed to add more milk. Gilbert seemed to give him a look of "oh am I?" before brushing some of the cans off him and to the floor. "You ahre, now." Prussia rose a white eyebrow, smirking to himself.

"You und vhat army?" Everyone in the room froze as lightning seemed to leap from the German's form, his eyes alone would've been enough to make the average human keel over. It had _always _been an unspoken rule that his temporary losing of an army was _never_ to be even hinted at. Ludwig began to work his hands free, Gilbert laughing all the while at his misfortune.

Knock, knock, knock!

"Dat musd be France und Canada!" Prussia merrily jumped to his feet and made his way to the entrance hall. Most everyone else in the room stared after him like "who?".

"Hey! You ged back heir!" Germany angrily yelled as the others laughed at him. "Dis isn'd ofer Prussia!" He tomped into the room just as his grinning brother threw the door open, what greeted him made his breath catch.

"Hello Gilbert, _Fröhliche Weihnachten._" Austria greeted, Hungary at his elbow. The two seemed to catch sight of Ludwig behind his brother, he was frowning and really looked more like a cat stuck in a Chinese finger trap than anything else. "Ludwig, what are you doing?" Roderich tweaked an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Making pie… Gilbert?" The Prussian was just standing there, staring at Elizeveta. Her hand slipped behind her into her pan-space, ready to fend him off should he attack. Gilbert's mouth suddenly thinned and then broadened into a grin.

"Merry Christmas, Specs! Hungary… May I schay dat you look especially beautiful tonight." Ludwig detected the slur in his voice, it wasn't from his drinking either. He was pissed about something. Gilbert leaned out in front of Hungary, going nose to nose with her. "Vhat do you schay dat you ditch four-eyes here und come hev some fun vid a _real_ man, neh?"

"Gilbert, step back _now_. You _know_ I always have a frying-pan and I'd prefer not to use it today."

"Oh come on!" He pressed closer.

"Gilbert!" Ludwig yelled as the man's hand came up.

"Prussia, get your hand's awa-" And Roderich was struck dumb as Gilbert pressed his lips against his ex-wife's, the albino's hand groping her chest.

"Prussia!" Gilbert pulled back, who was that? Frantically his eyes searched for the voice that had said his name. They settled on the small Canadian standing next to the slightly shorter Frenchman… Wait, shorter? Matthew was standing at his full height and looked furious for some reason or another. A smile, one free of bitterness, instantly jumped to his face to greet him, but as he opened his mouth he was blindsided by a frying pan to the side of his face. The Prussian hit the floor, hard. "Oh my God, Gilbert!"

"I warned you." Hungary snorted and clung to Austria who still was just standing there staring. Ludwig was on his knees next to his brother who looked more than a little dazed, but felt powerless with his hands encased in dough.

"Vhere dit I goh jus' now?" Prussia asked as Austria seemed to snap out of his stupor, there was now lots of yelling and Canada came to stand over him, obviously fretting, "Are you alright Gil?"

"_Ja_, you know me. Nod like it hasn'd happant bevor."

"And furthermore-!"

"Specs! Specs! Calm down! It vas a _joke_ you know me!" Prussia heaved himself up off the floor, shaking a bit as the blow to the head really rocked his foundation, something warm was running down his face.

"Oh my God!" Canada tried to reach to wipe the blood away, only to be shoved roughly aside by Hungary. Thankfully, he was caught by France before he fell backwards off the stoop. There was a look of fury in the Frenchman's eyes, had that woman really _dared_ touch his son?!

"You do _not_ grope me as a _joke_!"

"Wot's all 'is 'en?" Arthur poked his head in along with the rest of the inhabitants of the couch. Ludwig still stood in the middle of the room, hands stuck firmly in the thick dough, unable to do anything. The hilarity of this did not seem to be lost upon the guests, but a brawl between Prussia and Hungary was about to break out in the hallway. Austria was probably going to be involved too, by the nearly visible steam pouring from the man's ears this was _definitely_ true.

"Hey Mattie~! When'd you get here?!" America chimed in, well, the fight seemed to be lost upon him… And Antonio as he waltzed over with Alfred to greet Francis.

"Uh, Al, kinda, sorta-" Canada began, only to shrink back in terror as Hungary took this intrusion as a serious offense.

"Can't you see I'm trying to teach this jerk a lesson!?" The brunette yelled raising her frying-pan up above Alfred's head. Francis's hand flew up and gripped her wrist, desperate to keep one of his sons from getting "hurt" in some way.

"Unhand my… Friend!" Roderich then joined in, jumping onto Francis's back and getting him into a choke-hold. England glared across the room at the Austrian, but really preferred not to help Francis, so Antonio did instead. The Spaniard, gripping the ends of Roderich's scarf, pulled hard on him, likewise choking him. Gilbert, not being able to resist, poked Elizeveta's chest, causing all of them to fall, backwards, to the floor, much to Alfred's and his own amusement.

"I love dominos! Don't you Mattie?" America laughed pointing at the group on the floor all trying to get up and failing, each of them easily thwarting one another's attempts.

"Gilbert!" Matthew shot the man a glare, this only prompted a heavy, drunken guffaw as he did nothing, but point and laugh.

"_Az istenit_!Let go of me!"

"_Merde_! Get your ex off me!"

"Make this Spaniard stop grinding against my ass!"

"I wouldn't be if you would just hold still!"

"Enough! It's a Chrisdmas pardy! Schud up, vid all your petty fighds and sid down and drink some goddamn bier!" Everyone in the room looked over to Germany then, he had managed to work free _one_ hand, but now was concentrating on keeping all the dough on the other.

"_Ludwig_! He jus-"

"I don'd care! He's Prussia! He's been doing it for years! Ged ovf my floor!" Each nation immediately flew off one another and scrambled to their feet. Gilbert, still pointed and laughed, being joined by America, Matthew just looked on in disappointment, hugging Kumajirou harder to his chest.

"Well, Ludwig! I hope you have a merry Christmas, Roderich and I are leaving!" Elizeveta snorted, gripping the Austrian by his cravat and tugging him out the door. Everyone cringed at the slam, Ludwig was sure he was going to have to replace the hinges at his next convenience. He knew he was also going to have to apologize for this for months to come. Elizeveta could act like a man sometimes, but she had the grudge-holding ability all women had if nothing else.

At this point, the German turned his head to his brother, glaring at him and considering stuffing the sticky dough down his throat.

"Aht leasd de pardy vas interesding for two minudes." Prussia grinned haughtily at him, making a show of shining his nails, even when he wore gloves.

"Dey veren'd _heir_ two minudes und you just _hat_ to cause trouble! On today of ahll days!" The younger of the brothers shook his finger furiously at the older.

"I'm de live of de pardy in oder vorts." Once again his inflated ego practically dripped from every word, this only proved to frustrate the other man more.

"You know vhat?!"

"Vhat?" Prussia said in a sing-songy way.

"Noh pie for you!" Germany spun on his heel and stalked back to the kitchen, grumbling to himself.

"Vhat?! Noh pie?!" The albino gave chase, realizing how dire the situation was now, everyone looked to each other at that point and followed. "_Westen_!!! Vhy?!"

"Because you'fe been noding bud trouble since de day you arrif't!"

"Bud! Bud! Pie!" Prussia began to cling to his brother.

"Ged ovf me! You're drunk!" Germany yelled, elbowing his brother's face as the shorter fastened himself around the blonde's waist.

"P-Prussia?" Gilbert suddenly felt a twinge of regret, he'd been ignoring Matthew. Detaching himself from Germany, he jumped to his feet and brushed off. He stumbled a bit, the beer plus the blow to the head was not helping any.

"_Ja_, Canada?" Everyone seemed to be looking around for the source of the voice and whoever the Hell it was Gilbert was talking to, Alfred and Francis the only ones excluded.

"Your face is kind of bleeding…" The Prussian man blinked as everyone's eyes finally fixed on Canada… When did he get here?! Gilbert reached up and ran a hand over the moist, warm area on the side of his face, his gloves coming back with a red, shining liquid on them.

"Oh. Peh, it's noding." He wiped the blood off on his pants and walked to the bathroom to clean it up, Canada following. No one else followed, Francis would've and so would Alfred if Arthur hadn't a firm hold on the backs of their coats. They both seemed totally incapable of seeing that Prussia would never take advantage of the boy or hurt him in any way. The emotions Gilbert claimed many times not to have for anybody were too strong to allow that.

"You're taller dan me." Gilbert mumbled as Matthew wiped the blood away with a wet rag.

"You've never noticed?" The blonde held a cotton ball to the mouth of the alcohol bottle and poured some of the liquid into it.

"I guess you nefer schtant compledely schtdraighd. It's carrying dat bear arount all de time." Matthew sighed and touched the soaked cotton ball to the still bleeding cut. "Yeowch! Hey!"

"Oh don't be a baby, it's just alcohol."

"Nod de goot kint dough." Matthew couldn't help but chuckle.

---

"The bastard ain't home." Romano snorted and folded his arms across his chest, it was starting to snow. Feliciano was leaning against the wall of the house, staring blankly up at the grey sky. White flakes settled in his hair and on his scarf, staying for a few seconds before disappearing. All the humans bustled about, getting ready for the actual holiday not far away anymore. And on that day, they all would be happy in their own homes, playing games with their children, their siblings, seeing their parents or snuggling with the one they loved most… There would be food and a fire in some of the older houses. There would be the idiots that tried to flash-fry their turkeys and burn their kitchen to cinders. Christmas…

Lovino turned to look at his brother as he still stared blankly away into the distance. What was he seeing? He had come close to dying too, but never as close as Feliciano, what was it like to see through the eyes of a half-dead man? A half-dead man that had given up on getting better?

"Ludwig…" The small Italian sighed as he continued staring at nothing and Lovino knew what he was seeing.

_Doesn't the damned potato bastard have a party today? Prussia was friends with Antonio so maybe he invited him… Dammit._ Well, Feliciano would at least get to see Germany one last time… "Hey, I think I know where Spain is." He said softly, so he didn't surprise his brother.

"Mm, what?" Italy slowly turned his head to look at his twin. Though his face was soft, there was no hint of joy or a smile on the older's face at all, Feliciano knew why. The boy smiled happily anyway and asked, "You do? Where is he?"

"Just follow me, stupid." Lovino tousled Feliciano's hair as he walked by and took his hand. "You'll like where we're going."

"Ve, I'll like it as long as you are there."

---

Prussia was missing… So was Spain and France… Germany pulled the pie that had finished baking out of the oven and looked around suspiciously. England and America were bickering back and forth in the family room, occasionally Canada would step in to help them off a particularly difficult topic. Japan? He was his usual self, never sure of when to speak up or remain quiet. Prussia's disappearance from the rest of the visitors with his usual cohorts had Germany worried. They were planning something and his intuition told him he was not going to like that something.

Ludwig poked his head out into the warmly lit family room, it looked so pleasant, music playing in the background and the smell of pie in the air. The was also the smell of beer, but Germany ignored that, "Pie is done, you guys vant any?" he asked. England looked over with interest, Canada as well, Alfred looked over but shook his head. He wasn't having any _foreign_ pies this Christmas!

"Wot kind is it?" Canada nodded, asking the same question.

"You vout call it a Chrisdmas pie. It's god eh… Raisins, almonds, bananas, whisky, nutmeg." Germany shrugged at the end, he had been making the cakes for so long and it was just habit to always have the items in his kitchen during the holidays, he had to think about what was in it.

"Whisky you say?" England asked with a glint in his eyes, he wasn't drunk yet, it took a lot for that, almost as much as it took Prussia to get totally smashed. Germany just nodded as Canada hopped to his feet and began to make his way to the kitchen.

"I think I'll have some, it sounds good… Can Kumakotsu have some too?" Ludwig gave the bear a speculative look before nodding his head and looking back to England.

"_Ja_."

"Who?" The white bear asked, Canada sighed, "I'm Canada…" and he slunk into the kitchen, ignoring the odd look the taller blonde was giving him.

Ludwig looked to Arthur, raising an eyebrow, the British man chuckled slightly before getting up to make his way to the kitchen.

"Tha' bloody bear can never seem to remember 'oo th' 'ell 'e is." Germany frowned at England's answer.

"Vhy nod?" Arthur only shrugged.

"I can never seem t' remember 'oo 'e is either. I'm 'is dad too. 'Casionally even Alfred forgets." The two blondes watched as Canada cut a piece of pie and set it out on a plate, Kumajirou biting into it a second later and Canada yelling at him that it was his. The bear didn't apologize. "D'you think anythin's goin' on between 'im and Prussia?" Germany looked at the man, his eyebrow going up his forehead.

"You dink?" England nodded.

"I dunno, 'e's your brother, you know 'im better than I do."

"Nah, I don'd dink soh. Gilbert is more partial to de vemen of de horizondal virtue." Arthur laughed at his wording.

"Ever think tha' maybe 'e'd want somethin' _more_ than jus' prostitutes?" Ludwig frowned again, tapping the side of his forehead thoughtfully.

"I cahn'd see him in a schtable relationschip. Less dan a mond in he voult say someding schtupit und… Vell, dat voult be de ent of it. If he coult be in von, I voult vant him in von. He lifes alone, schleeps alone, eads alone und hes to _boder_ people to ged dem to pay attention to him. Beyond France und Schpain of course, bud… I vant him to hev more dan jus' one night schtants, bud vid de kint of person he is, I don'd dink he _can_ hev anymore dan jus' dat." Germany terminated the conversation by walking into the kitchen and standing next to Canada to help him if he needed it. England just frowned looking after him, Germany had a point, with Prussia's swelled ego and tendency to say things he didn't mean just for laughs… It didn't matter what his real emotions were, his inexperience with meaningful ones would mean a relationship would only end in heartache for both of them.

"'Ey Matthew, cut me a piece would'ja?"

"Okay Arthur!" Arthur came into the kitchen then nudging Germany away, he deserved so much relaxing after having to deal with his brother a lot this evening and after baking the pie.

"Go sit down, Germany. I'll bring you a piece."

"Ueh… Alrighd…" Germany turned from the room and walked back out into the family room to see Japan and America finally talking… Couldn't go sit down… "Hey Englant! I'm going to ged a new case of bier from down schtairs! Jus' pud it on de table oud hier okay?"

"Okay!" Arthur replied as Ludwig headed for the basement.

The German hadn't even reached the third step before he tripped the rest of the way down the stairs.

_What did I trip over?_ He groaned, reaching under him to pick up what looked suspiciously like some kind of… French sex toy… _Oh, crap!_ The blonde bolted to his feet, frantically looking around for a case of beer while trying to retreat and save his skin.

"Oh bruuuuudeeer!" Came the sing-songy voice of his brother. Ludwig jumped and waved the strange object around in front of him.

"Vhat efer you vere planning on doing to me vid **dis**," He indicated the object again by thrusting it towards the advancing and… Naked, albino. "you are nod going to ged de chance to!" Where were Spain and France?!

Prussia leaned against the wall giving him a look of "vhat de hell are you talking aboud?" before smirking.

"Dat vas jus' to trip, do nod vorry." Germany shivered, usually very _bad_ things ensued when his brother said things like that… "His toy's scare me too anyvay." How much Germany hated being right when his brother was involved as he felt two powerful sets of hands grab his arms.

"Pud me down!" He valiantly thrashed against the offending arms as France's laugh started by his right ear. Prussia's "kesesesesese" soon joined in and that's when he knew something… He was screwed.

"Iggy asked for help, that's why." America stated simply as an answer to the question Japan asked.

"Things were fine without you over there, though. You didn't _need_ to get yourserf invorved Alfred. You shourd've forrowed your brother's exampre." Japan said as he stared those bright blue orbs straight on.

"You _remember_ my brother's position in the war?" Alfred chuckled, finding this very humorous. He had _asked_ Canada to join and thought that he was going to, but someone seemed to have gotten to him first as he refused to join.

"I remember _Puroisen-san _terring me they onry had you over in North America after I asked about arries."

"You still asked for updates?" Japan nodded smiling.

"_Itaria-kun_ and _Doitsu-san_ were stirr my friends. I wanted to know how they were."

"Never asked how I was…" America looked away, his face tinted pink.

"I was angry… I thought… That you were behaving stupidry. That maybe our… Friendship? Wourd have been enough to persuade you not to join." Japan explained, examining the couch fibers.

"Why did you sound iffy about the friendship thing?" America blinked, fixing his glasses.

"Werr… It was compricated… What were we?" The two looked at each other then, it was a question they had been avoiding for years, what were they? They were less than lovers certainly… But occasionally it seemed like they were more than friends…

"I don' know…" Alfred suddenly raised an eyebrow with a smile on his face. "What do you want it to be now?" Just as suddenly as the question came Japan was stuttering and red. This made Alfred laugh, that face!

"I-W-W-I… W… Of course, I… Did you say something _Igirisu-san_?!" He smiled apologetically and jumped up from his spot on the couch, bowing deeply. "_Gomenasai Amerika-san!_" Quicker than the wind he fled the room, shoving England back into the kitchen as he crossed the threshold. Alfred just sat and stared… What had just happened? Had he been ditched for _England_?!

"Hey, what are Japan and Iggy talking about in there?" He asked as Matthew left the kitchen with a smile on his face.

"Oh, Arthur wanted to know where Germany keeps his utensils. For such an organized guy, his kitchen is confusing." Matthew easily lied, this was something that it was okay to lie about. It's not like anyone was going to get hurt over _this_ one… Prussia, England, France, and America were all in the house… With him… If he said one wrong thing with England or France or his brother in the room… Nervously, he ran a hand through his hair, tonight would not end well…

"Ah… What has you so nervous?"

"Oh nothing, Gilbert is missing, Papa and Spain too… Usually that's a bad thing…"

"Don't worry, France might, but the other two wouldn't _dare_ molest you, you have nothing to worry about." Alfred gave him a confident smile and a thumbs up. "Where the Hell is Germany with that damn case of beer!?" The blonde snorted, fixing his glasses. Canada had the urge rising in his gut to tell him that Prussia _did_ have the audacity to do inappropriate things to him, but that would only dig the albino's grave deeper.

"Did he say he was going into the basement?"

"Yeah, want to check to see what's taking so long?"

"Sure." Matthew turned and headed down the hall to the basement… Slightly, he wondered how many nations had been cowed by the man he was partying with tonight and kicked down the stairs that lie just beyond the door. Swallowing hard and remembering that Germany was a peaceful man, he opened the door and stepped down the stairs, slightly disappointed that the stairs didn't even groan under his weight. Even the stairs didn't know he existed!

"I'm going to kill you for dis!" Matthew froze, that was Germany's voice… Had someone been hiding in the basement this whole time? Was Germany in trouble! "Don'd touch dat!" Apparently yes… Quietly (he really didn't have to try), he made his way down the stairs to the hallway. Most people he knew had big open spaces as basements, apparently Germany was a bit different. He poked his head into the room closest to the stairs, it was a large, open room full of supplies, there were two freezers and at least five stacks of beer cases the same height as him. He also counted at least three kegs. Sly chuckling and distressed noises echoed down the hallway to Matthew's ears, further away… Now that he was paying attention, there was a small amount of light spilling out into the hallway from the farthest room, the rest of the basement was dark.

Deciding that he would never get a chance to do this again, he peered into some of the rooms he passed, he stopped after the third because of some of the items he found strewn throughout the room. Most likely, these were the rooms the subdued nations were stuck in for interrogation… He shivered, but was glad that they all seemed in disuse.

"S-Schtop dat! Do you hev any _idea_ how obscene dat is?!" More laughter and Matthew quickened his pace until he was to the side of the door, making sure to stay out of the light spill. He pressed his body against the wall, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. The laughter sounded familiar now… It sounded like…..

"Kesesesesese, gedding all hod und bodert ahre ve?" Prussia? And what the hell was he talking about?! Not being able to contain himself, he poked his head into the room, well… There were Spain and France's backs… This explained where they went, but where was…. Canada had to suppress a yelp of surprise as he saw Prussia, completely naked, dancing in front of his brother. The face plastered to the younger German's face suggested that the Prussian was going to be sorry the moment the ropes tying him to the chair he was in were cut. However, Matthew didn't have time to assess this as he fell backwards without a noise, a small amount of blood trickling from his nose.

"Prussia! I svear to gott dat-Ah! Schtoppid!" Prussia chuckled once again as his hand rested on the small bulge in the front of his brother's pants.

"You svear _vhat_?" He teased, fiddling idly with the pant's zipper. Spain and France just watched like the voyeurs they were. It was rather cute how Germany's face so closely resembled a tomato.

"I svear dat I-Vaid…" Prussia rose an eyebrow at his brother's now very concentrated face. He was supposed to be the center of attention here! Germany couldn't stifle the surprised moan that escaped him when Gilbert grabbed him through his pants. "Schtoppid! Really! Dere's someding… Like you, I dink…" Gilbert slipped his hand from his brother's groin and stood up straight. He snorted with disappointment as he realized he would probably have to be serious about this.

"Vhat?" He turned and looked back to France and Spain. Both of them shrugged. Gilbert turned around again and looked at Ludwig. "Vhat do you mean by dat?"

"I dink it's an ex-nation… Very faindly… Noh, vaid, dere's someding dif'rnd aboud dis von… It's almosd like it is a nation, bud it's nod… Dere's ahlso anoder nation vid it I dink…"

_Italy. _Gilbert's brain supplied, recalling what Romano had told him on the phone the day previous. "Schid." He quickly walked to the corner and pulled on all his clothes. "Ve cahn finisch dis lader, undil den, Francis, undy him."

"Vaid, do you know vhat it is?"

"I hev a hunch." Francis looked disappointed as he trudged over to the tied up nation, knife in hand and slashed the twine from him.

"I sait undy him, nod cud de ropes!" Gilbert angrily yelled as he buttoned his white shirt up.

"Gilbert, this is Germany, he has plenty more in that room over there." Francis flicked a wrist towards the hallway in a vague gesture.

"I guess you're righd." Spain helped Germany up, his feet were probably asleep from the rope tying his ankles to the legs of the chair. He seemed calm enough to Spain, but just in case, he took a few steps back.

"Gilbert, jus' soh you know, you ged anyvhere near me avder dis tonighd, de family jewels ahre going to ent up very far avay in Russia." Ludwig offhandedly commented as he rubbed his wrists. France and Spain shrunk away from the threat, it sounded as if he meant it… Gilbert just twitched at the threat. Ludwig _knew_ how much he hated Ivan. How he had barely just gotten over the nightmares…

"_Ja, ja_." Prussia turned to leave the room, tripping over something as soon as he entered the hallway. "Ah! Vhat de fuck?!" Striding whatever it was, he wrestled the lump he had tripped over around until he got a good look at it. "Canada?!" Blood, there was blood on his face, what happened?! Who had dared hit him?!

"Ah! Get off my sweet Mathieu you rapscallion!" France tried to lean over to pull Prussia off his son, he was interceded however, by Germany placing a firm kick to the back of his head.

"Oof!"

"C'mon, ve don'd hev time for you to mess vid my idiod bruder." Germany grasped France's arm and yanked him roughly down the hall and up the stairs, followed quickly by Spain who didn't even give Prussia a passing glance.

"Mmmn…" Prussia quickly sat up, looking down at the boy as he seemed to wake up. "Mmmn, ow, my head." Matthew groaned as he reached up to feel his head, pausing at the slickness on his face. "What the…" Slowly, he opened his eyes, it took him a few moments of staring to figure out, however what exactly it was on his stomach. "Aah! Gilbert what are you doing?!" Gilbert's worry quickly dissolved as an idea came to him.

"Vhat does it look like?" He ran a finger over the blood beneath the blonde's nose, bringing it slowly up to his mouth and licking the liquid from it.

"Gilbert that's disgusting…"

"You're disgusting!"

"What?!" The albino threw his head back laughing, gripping his stomach.

"I kit, I kit. Vhat de fuck ahre you doing on de floor anyvay?"

"I-I… I don't know really…." Considering the fact that Matthew _had_ most likely seen what he had been doing prior to the situation he was in now, he arrived at the only logical (to him anyway) conclusion.

"You musd'fe seen my heafenly form und become so ofervhelmt dat you jus' passt oud." Now that Matthew thought about it… He did remember seeing him naked… And dancing around… That explained the nosebleed… No, wait! No it didn't! He didn't like him like that! He didn't! Gilbert was his friend!

_Impure thoughts, go away!_ The blonde quickly picked up his head and dropped it back to the hard, cement floor.

"Voah! Vhat vas dat for?" Alarmed, the silverette reached back under Matthew's head to check for any more blood. Upon finding none, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his handkerchief, using it to wipe the blood from Canada's face.

"Gilbert, stop it, I can do it myself." Canada tried to push the hands away to no avail.

"I'm nod efen obligatet to be nice to you, und I am being nice, und you don'd efen appreciade it?! It's dat damn Italian you'fe been vid, I know it!"

"Don't talk about Romano like that." Something had sparked between the two then, Gilbert's, a lust to put Romano down for good, Matthew, he wanted to make Gilbert feel bad for what he had done to him.

"I'll talk aboud dat no goot cowvard how _efer_ I please." The albino hissed, feeling the tension between them slowly build.

Canada opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a loud clatter coming from upstairs and a gunshot. The two jumped, grabbing at one another before both looking to the stairs. Gilbert pursed his lips, thankful that no pained scream followed it.

"Fuck." After quickly disentangling himself, he jumped to his feet and pulled Canada up before bolting down the hall and up the stairs.

"Wait for me!"

As the two ran from the basement door, the scene that greeted them made Canada's breath catch in his throat, it just made Prussia grin with excitement, pulling two Heckler and Koch handguns from his belt.

Germany had Romano pressed against the wall, a gun to his head, Italy was on the floor, curled up in a ball, Spain at his side with a gun of his own at Germany's temple. England's guns had found homes at the backs of both the blonde and brunette nations' heads, America joining in on Spain but remembering a gun to France as his was at Japan's. Japan only had his eyes on England.

"Step the fuck away from Lovino." Spain hissed in Germany's ear. Germany's glare on the frightened Italian pressed against the wall didn't falter or move as he responded, "Do you hev _any_ idea how much grief he has caust me? Do you?!"

"You 'ave no right to be demandin' anything Spain. You're not s'posed to be any closer than five metres from Romano." As mouths opened to yell, Gilbert laughed loudly, breaking everyone's concentration. Romano shoved Germany off him hard, causing the gun to sound off and plant a bullet firmly in the wood of the front door. There was scrambling as Canada darted through the roiling mass of yelling and threatening countries to Romano's side, Prussia chasing after him.

"_Preußen! _Ged your _arsch_ oud ov my vay! I **vill** schood you!" Germany roared in outrage as everyone repositioned their guns at their places and he pressed his rifle at Prussia's stomach. Canada, rose his own and ended up sandwiched between Romano and Prussia as the albino shoved back at Canada, a growl rising in his throat.

"Make me." He was suddenly aware of guns clicking as Spain pulled a new one from his belt and held it at Canada's head at the same time the blonde drew a gun, pointing it beyond Prussia at Germany and the brunette. Prussia joined him, pointing one at Spain but the other back behind Canada at Romano.

"Does fucking _everyone_ have a gun but me?!" Romano yelled, deeply frustrated as he tried to position himself more in front of Italy.

"Gilbert, move! I don't need your help!" Canada tried to move the man threatening Romano and threatening his own life in the way of his younger brother.

"I don'd care if you don'd dink you neet help. I'm gifing you it anyvay!"

"Like I _want_ your help after **what you did**!" Prussia elbowed the man in the face with an angry roar as France reached over the other people and shoved another of his guns against Prussia's temple.

"That was you!? You bastard!" France yelled and struggled to get closer against the other nations that kept him still, Japan finally returned France's gift to his head with another of his guns. "How _dare _you claim to be Mathieu's friend! What kind of a friend does that?!"

"Schud de fuck up France! I know vhat I dit vas fuckt up so don'd you schard yelling at me!" Prussia yelled back, ignoring Canada's attempts to punch him back. Germany, meanwhile had gotten fed up with their bickering and removed his gun from his brother's gut.

"Ged oud ov **my vay**!!!" Germany smacked his brother nation across the face with the barrel of the gun twice before raising his foot and shoving him hard in the stomach with his boot. Everyone slammed in on one another at that moment, each pressing hard to keep each other restrained, most importantly Germany. "Ged ovf me! I'm going to kill de gottamn baschtart! I'll be doing de whole fucking vorlt a favor!" Germany struggled, smacking and shoving as many people away as he could. "I'll fucking schood you ahll iv I hev to!"

"That's a declaration of war!" America shouted, realizing this as true, everyone tensed. Guns pressed harder as people chose their allies.

"Den I openly declare var on-"

"Please, stop!" Everyone froze and looked to the floor next to Romano, there Italy sat, sobbing into his arms. "Please! I d-don't want everyone to-" Italy sobbed in between his words, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Ludwig, I love you so please reconsider! I know Lovino has been acting stupid, but I love him too, he's the only brother I've got!" Everyone looked to Germany then, his face was starting to turn red through his fury. "And Lovino! You came here to say sorry to Antonio right?! So do it!" Romano turned away as Spain hopefully looked from Canada to the boy he had been mooning after. "Francis and Arthur, the war is over, get over your differences and just… Do whatever it is old people do when in love!" France's face screwed up at the Italian's wording. He wasn't old! England on the other hand opened his mouth to yell that he was _not_ in love anymore with that goddamned frog, but was quickly drowned out as Italy's cries intensified. "It's Christmas! I-Isn't it all about love a-and presents?! I don't think bullets to the brain make good presents!" Italy's body shook and he coughed violently into his hands, blood spitting into them

Worried, Romano slowly knelt down next to him, allowing Prussia's gun to follow his head as he went.

"Are you alright?" Italy burst out into tears again, hugging himself to his brother, spewing Italian gibberish. Prussia chose to look away to give the brothers a bit of privacy, still pressing the gun against the elder's head.

"Okay guys, seriously, W-T-F are we doing? It's Christmas for Chrissake." Realizing that America had said _something_ useful for the first time in history, France, Japan, England and himself lowered their guns. Germany tightened his hands on his rifle, Prussia too, still not willing to move out of the way of Canada.

Romano looked up at Canada and Spain then, both glaring at one another, Canada's glare was actually quite intimidating now that he got to see it… And that look in Spain's eyes…

"C-Canada?" He paused to consider his words. "Matthew…" Slowly, he got back to his feet, Prussia shoving the barrel of his gun harder into his head for a reason no one seemed capable of comprehending. By now the rest of the uninvolved nations had backed away to give this group space to negotiate. They would only step in if they were absolutely sure of gunfire.

Unsure of what else to do, Romano wrapped his arms around the taller man's waist, hugging himself tightly to the man, earning himself a jab to the head and Canada an angry growl from Spain.

"I've already told you, as my friend, I love you, I would be sad if you disappeared, I will be there for you when you are sad and you are always welcome in my home… But, I still love Spain…" Matthew tried to keep his face neutral, but it just wasn't working out as Gilbert watched his face slowly turn mournful. The blonde pursed his lips and shut his eyes tight, looking at the ground.

Italy, during all this had managed to crawl his way to Germany's side, he tugged weakly at the man's pants.

"Ludwig?" Italy's meek voice floated up from the floor. "Please, can you put the gun down?" Germany ground his teeth together, glaring hatefully at the older Italian as he looked from Canada to Spain.

"_Nein_."

"Why?" The smaller man sniffled, tugging at his pants' leg again, trying in vain to stand up by himself.

"Italy… He attackt me! You! You cahnnod expecd me to jus' forgif him because he is your bruder!"

"But he's sorry!" Germany felt his pant leg grow wet as the brunette sobbed into it, awkwardly, he shifted his gun in his right arm, reaching down with his left to the sobbing man.

"Sorry doesn'd make it alrighd." He said in a soothing voice, his tone not betraying the slightest intention of killing the older brother. Italy's hand grasped his then, it was a strangely strong grip for a man so weak.

"Please, help me up…" Then all eyes were on Germany and Italy, _was_ Germany going to help the dying nation or was he going to turn him away? Even Romano had his eyes firmly fixed on the sight.

Realizing what this could mean, Germany gave it thought, he could ignore the boy and kill Romano, but that was saying goodbye to Italy for good… He could also help the dying man, but would never be able to exact his revenge.

"I love you, Ludwig." Germany's grip on the smaller hand tightened and he rubbed the soft knuckles comfortingly with his gloved thumb.

"_I-Ich liebe…_" He paused, working up the courage as he pulled the man to his feet, turning to look down at him with a flushed face. "_Ich liebe dich Italien…_ Feliciano." Smiles were breaking out all over the room, Prussia's was the widest, combined with Romano's smile, the sun was only a candle when compared.

"In English… Maybe?" Feliciano's smile was still small as he put his arms around the muscular German. He could swear the contact brought some of his strength back. Ludwig looked away, his face a bright red. He wanted to say it! He really did! Who knew admitting you loved someone in a language _everyone_ understood was so hard?

"Ah-Ah… I… Lof you, Feliciano." Ludwig let his gun slip from his arm to the floor as he wrapped his arms around the trembling man. The brunette was crying again, but for the first time in a long time, they were tears of joy. As everyone began to cheer, Ludwig felt the rest of his face grow hot with embarrassment. He heard his brother's happy laughter and the suggestive chuckle of France as he mumbled something to America.

Amidst all the excitement, Canada slipped away from the crowd, Spain had lowered his gun and was kissing Romano passionately. Romano excitedly responded and kissed him back, clutching the back of the Spaniard's shirt. Canada couldn't bare to look and pocketed one of his guns, the other at his side as he left the room.

Gilbert watched him go and looked to Lovino for a second, he would get him back later. Quickly, he extricated himself from the crowd, following after him, soon pursued by Alfred, who pecked Kiku's cheek as he passed. The Japanese man stuttered and nervously fidgeted alone in the crowd as the blonde pursued the Prussian and his little brother. Francis would have followed after them, but not willing to be the only one in the room having not been snogged, Arthur grabbed him by his collar and wrenched him down into a kiss. This quickly grew into hands gripping and bodies pressing to one another, but everyone seemed to look away long enough from each other to see the main event.

Cautiously, Ludwig leaned down as Feliciano looked up and their lips pressed softly together. They fit so perfectly that it was hard to believe either of them had ever existed as a single entity. The kiss did not last long and it wasn't a kiss that would lead to a hot night in bed, but it was enough to tell both the participants how much they cared. Pulling out of the kiss first, Ludwig leaned his forehead against Feliciano's, their noses touching and eyes never leaving the other's. There was boundless love and affection within the deep, chocolate orbits, they shamed the German for ever raising a hand against their owner. He hugged the Italian closer, kissing him again, deeper and harder, his right hand gently threading itself into the brown hair.

"Woot! You go Ludwig!" Ludwig jumped, startled as he tried to pull out of the kiss, only to be pulled back in by Feliciano who couldn't have cared less who had said it.

"Ve, forget about them." Feliciano encouraged as he pecked the taller's lips again, gripping the back of his shirt. Germany sighed and rested his forehead against Italy's again, a pleasant smile on his beet-red face.

"Don'd led goh." He pressed his lips to the man's forehead then, his left hand rubbing the other's back.

"Ve." Feliciano nuzzled his face into Ludwig's chest, feeling a bit more of his former strength returning, his heart, he noticed was behaving too… Was Germany's absence really all that was ailing him? He could have laughed at himself then if he weren't feeling so warm and contented in the German's arms.

"Vell, fuck…" Everyone turned from the happy couple to see Gilbert, Matthew and Alfred all standing at the other end of the room. "I misst my bruder's firsd kiss _again_!" Ludwig snorted at his brother as Feliciano laughed and everyone else joined in. Gilbert shoved his way back through the crowd, grabbing France and Spain as he went. No one seemed to know what they were doing as the three mumbled amongst themselves.

"Okay?"

"_Si_!"

"_Oui_!" The Frenchman and Spaniard turned to leave then, Spain carrying on to the kitchen and France stopping for a moment. "Hey, Gilbert, look here for a minute."

"Hm? Vhat?" The Prussian asked before he was floored by a powerful punch to the face. Nobody moved to help the albino up.

"That's for beating up on Mathieu like that! I'll get you worse later so consider that an appetizer!" France snorted before stalking over to the basement door and tomping down it to retrieve what he was sent for. Everyone watched them leave, curious as to what was going to happen now.

"_Osten, _vhat ahre you doing now?" Ludwig asked, turning to look at him and keeping one arm firmly wrapped around Feliciano's waist. Gilbert got to his feet, rubbing his jaw and looking to Canada pointedly before looking back to his brother and his new lover.

"Feliciano, mint telling me vhere you keep your paindbrusches?" Gilbert asked coming to stand in front of him. After a few moments, Italy pointed down the hallway.

"The guest bedroom at the end of the hallway, my paints are in there too with some canvases… Why?" The albino grinned and mussed the Italian's hair gently.

"You'll see! Oh, congrads to bode of you!" And with that, Prussia sped off down the hallway as France walked up with a case of beer under each arm. Spain walked out of the kitchen, chips and all sorts of things in bags, he tossed them out on the table, making sure to open the larger bags.

"V-Vhat ahre you doing?!" Ludwig almost ran over to intercede the two as they put the food and beer out on the table by the kitchen. Feliciano gripped his arm though, nuzzling in close to him again.

"Ve, it's okay Ludwig. They're not hurting anything."

"But-but-" Feliciano leaned up and pecked him on the cheek, silencing his fretting over the cleanliness of his house.

Meanwhile, Alfred had made his way over to Japan, all smiles. Kiku looked away from the bright American, his face as red as Germany's had been.

"Uh, hi… Alfred… W-Why did you…" The blonde leaned over and pecked his cheek again.

"Because I like you and you're cute when you blush." More stuttering and useless spluttering as he tried to form a coherent sentence was all Alfred got from the boy as he pulled him into a hug. "Do you think I'm cute?" He grinned, looking down at the black-haired man.

"Ah… Ah… Nnn… I… Y-yes? I do… Think you're handsome… A-And I… R-Rike you too." The shy boy nearly tried to push Alfred away as he leaned in and planted a very soft kiss on his lips, but he couldn't muster the resolve to do so and just enjoyed himself.

Prussia rushed by then, carrying a sign that appeared to say "_Party! Bier & Kostenloses Essen_" along with an easel before he opened the front door and sat the two outside.

"_Kostenloses Essen_?! Prussia!" Germany started for the door again, spitting mad, still being held back by a very confused Italian.

"What does that mean?" Everyone else seemed to be thinking this same thing as they all looked after him.

"Frei foot!" England snorted and nearly made a joke about how they wouldn't becoming if "_Englisch_" was written before the part about food… But of course he wouldn't, never would he outwardly admit it!

Right as Prussia came back into the house, a few humans started trickling in and looking about, they saw the beer and they were sold. Germany could do nothing but watch as they all came in and headed straight for the beer and his kitchen! Prussia flirting with the women all the way.

Italy laughed at the blonde's distress and rubbed his back soothingly.

"I-Italy… They're going to-" His voice was drowned out as Prussia turned up the music from his iPod. Everyone peeled off from each other then (excluding Germany and Italy) and mingled. If it couldn't be any other night, tonight was going to be the night, just for the next few hours, they weren't nations, they were just people.

More humans had appeared and stuck around as the night went on it was only eleven and the night was (by Prussia's standards) still young. The albino nation had made this quite clear as he sat on the couch, drunk off his ass, flirting with three human women that had waltzed in about fifteen minutes ago.

Germany was having a less than stellar time as he watched some teens laugh and joke with one another across the room, spilling beer on his wood floor while they did. At least he had Italy who was currently gripping his hand in a supportive way. What would he ever do without the small Italian around? They both turned their attentions away from the humans wandering about the house as Lovino and Antonio came to stand in front of them, their fingers loosely laced together.

"Are you still mad at me, brother?" Feliciano asked nervously, leaning on Ludwig's shoulder for support. Lovino smiled, taking the time to notice the color in the man's face, he looked remarkably better than he had mere hours earlier. It was rather amusing to see that the two hadn't been apart since initially embracing earlier, they were always in contact with one another somehow. Weather it was hand-holding, one leaning on the other or kissing, they had yet to be apart.

"_Fratello_, love who you love… And forget the rest who say otherwise." Lovino said, leaning to embrace his little brother. Feliciano giggled, gladly returning the hug. "Antonio and I are going to head off now… So… Yeah…" Spain took this chance to lean in and plant his lips firmly on Romano's eliciting a surprised squeak from him. The older chuckled as Lovino attempted to press his lips harder against his own. He pulled away, Romano making a very dissatisfied noise as he did.

"We're gonna be off now!" Antonio chuckled and clapped Ludwig on the shoulder. "Thanks for inviting me! Hope to do this again next year… Just, you know, without the whole gunfight." The blonde absolutely refused to look at either of them, he still wanted to rip the annoying little Italian man limb from limb. He didn't trust himself to return the shoulder slap for fear of grabbing Romano and choking the very life from him.

"Bye Lovino! Have fun with Antonio!" Feliciano called as the two pulled their coats on and left the house.

Not far away, on the loveseat across the room, Matthew sat alone, watching as Antonio left with Lovino. Taking a deep breath, he sighed and crossed his legs as he took another sip of beer. Alfred had been sitting there talking to him not too long ago, but he too had departed the party with Japan… Except, they hadn't left the house, the two were down in Germany's basement. Tonight hadn't been good, maybe for everyone else it had. Everyone else that had someone to cling to and kiss and sit with…

"Hey, Maddie!"

"Hey, Gil." Matthew greeted the very drunk Gilbert that had two lovelies draped around him. He sighed and looked back down to his can of beer as Gilbert dished out more of his slightly offensive pick-up lines to the girls on him.

"Vhy don'd you two goh ged yourschelfs schome more bier, okay? I neet to talk to my buddy hier." The blonde blinked as the girls agreed and Prussia hopped over the back of the loveseat to sit next to him. "Vash ischt de problem mein freund? You look schat." Usually, Canada had no problem understanding drunk people and he had no trouble understanding German accents… But mixing the two… He had to guess what his friend had said.

"It's nothing really… Kind of stupid that I'm still moping over the whole thing with Romano… Does your face feel okay?"

"Ach! I'm fine! I know how to take a punch!" Gilbert responded with a big grin, his red eyes twinkling with merriement. "Bud schtop dinking aboud dat Romano guy, he's nod importand." He chuckled and nodded as if it were the smartest thing he had ever said. Matthew sighed again and patted his friend's shoulder. The man was drunk and therefore probably wouldn't understand it if he got angry at him for disregarding his feelings. Hell, the man didn't seem to fully respect his feelings even when he was _sober_.

"He's important to me, Gil. Uwah!" Gilbert pulled the small blonde against his chest, grinning widely down at him. For a second, Matthew swore that those ruby eyes were plotting something, he swore that sly gleam in them didn't reflect the same drunkenness that the rest of the albino's body did…

"Schlay, do you hev a mirror in your pock'ed? Becausch I can scho schee myschelv in your pands." Canada's face lit up brighter than a Christmas-tree light as the man heartily slapped him on the back in a merry manner. Nope, nothing much else beyond the usual Prussia was going on behind those windows to the soul.

"W-W-What?! Giiil!" The Prussian threw his head back at the reaction and Matthew hid his face in his chest. From where he was, he could hear Prussia's heartbeat, it was frantic and hammering, what did he have to be nervous about? After some thought, he decided it was the work of alcohol, this man behaved this way when sober anyway. "Can't you pick a better time to tease me?" He mumbled against the fabric of Gilbert's shirt.

"Vhat better time to try und _pick up _somevon dan vhen dey neet some _cheering_ up?" If Canada were looking up, he would've seen that usual Prussia grin narrow down to a small smile.

"There _are_ better times, man. But…" Matthew took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around the man he was leaning on. Gilbert looked down at him, perplexed by the sudden and very fierce hug. "What would you do if I told you that… I can too?" Now, Gilbert really _was_ drunk, his brain groped for some _idea_ of what the fuck he meant by that very vague statement.

"You cahn vhat?"

"S-See you, i-in…" Hopefully he'd given the Prussian enough of a clue because he was _not_ saying the rest. It was too embarrassing, on top of the fact that if he _did_ indeed understand what he had said… And was in actuality totally straight…

"In your… Pands?" The befuddled, drunken man replied, not quite comprehending yet what that meant. "Uhh…"

"Ah-I'm sorry!" Matthew shot up to sit straight, he couldn't _believe_ that he'd said that. Gilbert was his best friend h-he couldn't expect him to… The Canadian cut off his train of thought and stood to leave. "I'll! You, leave alone! Okay?! J-Just for-uh, get! That's it! That-er, ever happened! Eh?!" Just as he turned to leave, he felt his wrist enclosed in the vice-like grip of Gilbert's gloved hand.

"Sid down, it's fine." Matthew then found himself sitting in Gilbert's lap, arms wrapped protectively around his waist.

"G-Gil, are you sure you're-"

"I'm nefer soh drunk dat I forged vhat I vant."

"Ne-"

"Nefer." Matthew looked around at some of the people staring, quickly he looked away, his right hand groping for its mate that was on his stomach. The gloved hand responded by twining its fingers loosely with the nervous digits, the thumb lightly caressing the side of one of them.

"G-Gil, w-why're you-"

"Becausch. I don'd neet any oder reason."

"If you expect to get very far with me you do." Matthew snorted, kicking his friend's shin. His face turned red when Gilbert laughed and tightened his grip on him.

"Dat's vhy I like you Maddie. Scho much schpunk. Vhat do you schlay ve goh fint a room und dry oud your Chrischdmas preschend?"

"M-M-M-My what?!" Gilbert produced something from his left pocket and dropped it unceremoniously on the boy's lap, his stomach convulsing with laughter.

"Dis schoult be fery vamiliar to you, callid a French ledder." Yes, Canada was _very _familiar with these, he had received them along with many letters he received from his father as a joke. "Scho, vant to goh-"

"No." Matthew chuckled, picking up the condom and slipping it into his wallet for later use.

"Bud, v-"

"Because you're drunk. And, uhm… I'm not comfortable with that…" The albino snorted.

"Und v-" Matthew gripped the hand twined with his harder.

"B-because that's a big step… Unless you plan this to be a-"

"Nefer. Who voult vant jus' von nighd vid you?" The small Canadian felt his face on fire as the Prussian pressed his lips softly against the back of his neck.

"Ah, a lot of people."

"Dey vere schtupit."

"Veee~! Luddi! Leave them alone! He's not hurting anything!" Feliciano tugged at the German's sleeve cuff, desperately trying to get him to sit back down on the couch.

"He's clearly molesding Canada!"

"And Canada is _smiling_!"

"Gilbert musd'fe sait someding! He musd be lying aboud vhatefer it vas!" Germany tried to wrestle his wrist away from the boy without hurting him to no avail. "Feliciano, led goh dis instand!"

"_Luddi~_!" The small Italian whined, not wanting the man to leave him alone on the couch for fear that his body would start tearing itself apart again. At long last, Ludwig sighed and looked down at him, he just couldn't say no.

"Dit you jus' call me 'Luddi'?" Feliciano nodded enthusiastically a big smile on his face. It made the German's face turn red.

"Did you not like it?"

"N-Noh… I like't it…" The big man looked away as his face started to heat up again, Feliciano laced their fingers together.

"Kiss, Luddi?"

"Ah… N… Nod oud hier…"

"Why not? Nobody cares."

"I care!" He looked back to the small man, each catching each other's gaze. There was that electricity between them then… The same that had been there while they sat together in the hospital not even a week ago. At the time, neither knew what this feeling was… Now they knew, but Ludwig wasn't sure he liked where it went. Slowly, Feliciano stood, using Ludwig's hand as leverage.

"Ve?" He uttered, tugging lightly at the man's hand. It took so little encouragement to get the man to move slowly towards the hallway and their bedroom.

France and England noticed from their spots in the kitchen.

"Better make sure no humans go back there…" Arthur whispered to the taller Frenchman.

"Good thinking _mon cher_!" Just as the two left sight, Francis darted from the room, sitting a few chairs in front of the hallway, hoping that would be enough… Groping a few teens to get them to go away was always acceptable though!

Germany wasted no time once in the bedroom, he hadn't even closed the door behind them, but then again, no one would be foolish enough to follow the two.

"_Ludwig_." Italy moaned as Germany rounded on the boy and smashed him into a wall. Their hands were everywhere and anywhere all in a hurry, lips hungrily molding to each other. Each knowing just what the other craved, what they needed. Those same hungry lips tore away from the shorter and equally needy ones, a whimper of protest following as Germany pressed Feliciano against the wall. He looked uncertain for a moment, gazing at the state the boy was in. "Germany, _please_… I can't… Not now!" The brunette tried to push away from the wall, towards him, towards those lips he desperately needed.

"You cahn'd?" Ludwig questioned, taking it the entirely wrong way.

"I need you now! Don't stop!" Italy found himself pressed even harder against the wall by Germany's powerful hands.

"Neet me… I don'd do dis kint of ding ef'ry day…"

"Please!" Feliciano looked on the verge of crying. Ludwig nervously shifted his hand as something he had read popped into his head. Tentatively, he reached his hand to his mouth and tugged his glove off with his teeth.

Italy, managing to wiggle out of the grip holding him from his love, quickly smacked the hand away from Germany's mouth and jumped to wrap his arms around the man's neck. He pressed their lips together again and another messy kiss ensued. As the smaller man's tongue invaded Ludwig's mouth the true extent of the German's inexperience was made known as he seemed to have utterly no idea what to do.

"Ve! _Luddiiii_!" Feliciano whined when Ludwig went stiff under his ministrations. Germany seemed to gasp at the man's voice, little did the confused Italian know that it was because of a jump in his partner's groin.

"Ueh, I-I'fe nefer…" The tall man didn't seem to know how to finish that sentence, good for him that he didn't have to, Italy smiled compassionately at him and lightly kissed him again. A moment later moving to whisper in his ear and wrap his legs around Ludwig's midsection. The action, of course, surprised the man, but he wasn't shoving Feliciano away.

"Just follow my lead then, you'll get the hang of it." Somehow following the Italian's lead did not seem like the wisest thing to do. "Remember, you help me out of a pinch, I help you?" Ludwig almost found this comedic, never when the two promised to help each other those many years ago did he ever expect… This. "Ve, come on." Feliciano pressed their lips together again, this time asking for entrance into the blonde's mouth. Slowly, his lips parted and Italy's tongue slipped in, sweetly and softly trying to elicit any reaction at all from his partner's. This carried on for about a minute until slowly, Ludwig started joining in, tentative at first, but as Feliciano released a moan his pace quickened until he had the upper hand. There was no fight for dominance as Italy willingly gave in.

It was in this way that the two made it from the wall to Ludwig's bed at the far end of the room. They fell heavily to the piece of furniture, both of them once again gripping and groping one another, skin lusting for skin. It wasn't until Feliciano ground his hips against Ludwig's did the German realize that his friend was still sick… He might have looked better, but looks were always deceiving.

Quickly he sat up, thrusting the Italian man down against the sheets, each of them panting for air. Italy whined at the lost contact and opened his eyes to look at Germany, he looked deeply confused and concerned. However, Italy was also acutely aware of the dominant's _very_ tight pants, his own were bothering him as well, but it could wait.

"What's the matter?"

"Ve… Ve schoultn'd be doing dis…" Alarmed, Italy tried to sit up, but this was impossible as the German was striding his stomach. He had to settle for merely propping himself up on his elbows.

"But _Luddiiii!_" Germany pushed him gently back to the mattress, Italy went with surprisingly little complaint, but he was expecting an explanation.

"I-It's nod dat I don'd _vant_ to… It's jus… I'm afrait dat I mighd…" He looked away from those soft brown eyes, his face a brilliant shade of red. "I'm afrait I mighd hurd you."

"Ludwig is big, I'm sure, but he can't be tha-"

"Feliciano." Ludwig sternly admonished, looking down at him then. "You're schtill sick… Und I'm sure you're schtill broken in some places too…" Once again, he found himself losing his nerve and looking away. "I don'd vant to risk making any of dem vorse… I don'd dink I cahn be gentle…" Italy only smiled in understanding, laying himself back down and smiling seductively.

"You won't hurt me." His hands slid up to Ludwig's thighs, only to have his wrist trapped in an iron vice an inch before the starving bulge in the German's pants.

"I'm nod messing arount Italy…"

"And I know you won't hurt me." Ludwig gasped as the Italian's other hand came up and rubbed him through his pants. "Ve, come on Ludwig." He encouraged, a finger working the zipper of the pants down and weaseling its way in. A tentative finger ran over the starved length, eliciting a small noise from the German, Italy smirked, running the finger over it again.

"If you vant it dat bat schtop beading arount de busch!" Germany growled taking the hand from his groin and unzipping his fly personally. Feliciano chuckled at his wording, making him stop as he tried to liberate himself from his boxers. "V-Vhat?"

"Beating around the bush." He giggled whimsically, touching his hand to Germany's and completing the job of releasing the blonde's engorged length. "Oh, Germany _is_ big."

"C-Cahn you be serious aboud dis?" All the young Italian was serving to do was embarrass him, much more of this treatment and he would end up limp before the man could snap his fingers. The hands suddenly left his legs and began to work at the man's shirt. Not knowing what else to do, Ludwig followed suit, leaning down to kiss Feliciano as he did.

It didn't take long before the two seemed to have this down to a science, clothing left their forms so quickly it was hard to believe it was ever on to begin with. The large blonde growled possessively as he bit down on the Italian's bare neck.

"Ah!" The response prompted another growl and a hot, wet tongue sliding over the marked area. "L-Lu-" Another bite and another yelp, the same pleasured sigh followed as the German's tongue lapped at the area. Slowly he kissed a path up from the spot that marked this man as his to the lips he craved.

Feliciano moaned into Ludwig's mouth as their tongues twined together in slick joy, neither wanting the contact to end. Their hips grinded against one another, making both their bodies go crazy with lust and desire. Feliciano made a needy sound as his hips bucked against the teasing ones. A playful growl and a passionate tug to Feliciano's hair later, the German was sitting upright atop him, his fingers flexing before him.

"I don'd hev anyding, soh make it goot." Not skipping a beat, Feliciano grabbed the now proffered fingers and slipped them into his mouth, licking and sucking on them. Feeling rather confident as he let the Italian pleasure his fingers, his left hand slid down to the pulsing member between the pleasurer's legs. With no preamble at all, his fingers snaked around it and began to pump. Feliciano panted as he continued to coat Ludwig's fingers in saliva, it seemed as if the man removed them all too soon as Feliciano tensed for the coming sensation. A slight groan escaped him as the fingers pressed inside him, scissoring him wider. The German couldn't suppress a slight snort at small man's noise. Soon a third finger joined them, stretching him ever the wider to accommodate Germany's size. In a moment of whimsicality, Germany squirmed his fingers inside the boy, the response he received told him that he was ready.

Removing his fingers from the man's entrance, he took a deep breath, placing both hands on either side of the Italian's hips.

"Reaty?" He asked, positioning himself. Italy had his eyes squeezed shut and reached down to grab Germany's wrist before nodding and taking a deep breath. His eyes shot open as soon as the head pushed past the first ring of muscle, a moan tearing from him as he worked desperately to stay still. He gasped Germany's name, gripping his hand harder, his breath catching and turning into another moan of pleasure as the German buried himself deep within him.

"Damn." Ludwig groaned in appreciation and waiting for the Italian to tell him when. Italy reached up his other arm and fisted his hand in the German's hair as he tired of waiting and gently thrusted deeper.

"Stop being so gentle-" Feliciano's breath hitched as Ludwig chose to draw back during this time. "I want you to do me like you mean it." Why was it this seemed to be the only place the man was capable of demanding _anything_?

"I do mean it…" Feliciano yanked Ludwig down his level, smashing their lips together in a lusty and needy kiss.

"Show me." Taking that as his green light to do as he pleased, Germany thrust harshly back inside, buried to his hilt. It took some time for the pace to build but Germany had plenty of help from his little lover beneath him. Not only was he below him but all around him and as each fire-hot thrust increased the pleasure that was all that mattered. The material world dropped out from beneath them and all that there was was them in a black abyss. Hands, clutching, lips, needing, sucking and the waves of pleasure increasing until they both seemed to drown under the sheer weight of it all.

Their minds were powerless in this world of intimacy, the words that had torn them apart to begin with fell away and were meaningless in this world. Their hips, hands, lips, their whole bodies showed each other what they meant beneath the teasing and harsh words. Threats meant nothing and the words "I love you" were not enough to express the depth of this world they were immersed in.

Orgasm was a solid tidal wave that took them in screams and roars, colors exploding everywhere around them as they held tight to the only thing anchoring them to the world everyone else existed in. It didn't even begin to recede as the two continued to try and get closer to each other. Their skin trying to fuse with skin and their hands trying to meld into hair. Pleasure rocketed up and down spines, toes curled and hands clutched as if letting go would mean the death of everything.

With a final roar of release, Germany fell hard upon Italy, panting for air and holding him close as the Italian was whispering sweet-nothings in some incomprehensible language his brain knew to be English. He responded in kind in the tongue his was most comfortable, neither needed to understand the languages to know what the other was trying to express.

"F-Feliciano." Ludwig panted, running his hand through the brown hair.

"Y-yes?" An aftershock shook him and a moan escaped him as the Italian responded.

"I, Ludwig, lof you. Und I alvays vill."

"I love Germany too, nothing will ever change that."

"Noh, don'd say it like dat. Ve don'd hev de prifilege of saying dat our nations alvays vill lof each oder." Feliciano blinked, confused, he shifted a bit closer to look into the blonde's eyes for an answer. "Ve, ahs nations, ahre fickle, our emotions for von anoder changing ahs qvickly ahs politics. If our bosses villt it, ve vill hade each oder, bud, ahs people… Ahs Ludwig und Feliciano, our emotions remain ahs we see fid. Soh, I, Ludwig Beilschmidt, tell you, Feliciano Vargas dat _I_ lof you. I alvays vill… Undil de ent of time." Feliciano thought about what Ludwig had said then. He did somewhat understand, even during times when he claimed not to like Germany and truthfully hadn't, he had still loved him all the while. Dislike and hatred blended together so perfectly and indistinguishably that the difference could not be told. Just like he and his lover. Human and nation one in the same but each still its own vastly different entity. "Do you unterschtant vhat I'm trying to say?" After one more moment of thought Feliciano finally decided upon an answer.

"I think… I do… A little bit… It's complicated but I think I do understand what you mean. So, to answer you as I feel I should, Feliciano Vargas _loves_ Ludwig. Always and forever." The two's lips slid exhaustedly over each other as Ludwig slipped himself discretely from the Italian. And there they lay, basking in the warm afterglow of their love. Eventually, Feliciano had to fight to keep his eyes open, it was a fight he was losing at a very fast pace. Ludwig smiled and pulled him close, feeling sleep tugging at his eyelids as well. He nuzzled his face into the still wet, brown hair and sighed deeply into it. The Italian giggled at the sensation, but it was a sound of a barely awake man.

"Good night Feliciano." If Italy had replied, Germany didn't know, he was already dead asleep. Feliciano hadn't been able to answer either, falling asleep so perfectly in his love's arms.

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**IMPORTANT! **No it's not the end yet, lol, I'm sorry this last chapter is so long but I couldn't figure out how else to do it. Just so everyone knows, Red, White and Black is my next project : ) I would like everyone's opinion once again on what my update schedule should be, but polls don't seem to do so well so please when you comment address this issue. IF YOU DON'T I KNOW THAT YOU DON'T READ MY MESSAGES AND YOU WILL MAKE ME SAD! Lolz, but seriously. I love each and every one of you that has stayed with me through this story ;_; it is only because of you that this story has come to it's completion. Also, hah! I _did_ finish it within November! I was kind iffy myself if that was going to happen, but it's always wonderful when you out do your own expectations is it not?

The Omake will be done in the form of a side-story I will post later as its own thing. OH! THIS IS WHAT I REALLY MEANT TO ADDRESS THE WHOLE TIME! I will not be pressing the "complete" button until I have gone back and edited as much as possible, and I have been going back and doing just that as I've gone along. Fixing continuity errors (as many times this project took turns I didn't realize it would) and spelling errors and expanding in places I could have done better has expanded past chapters and inserted some occasionally humorous (hopefully) things. So yeah, check that often, the story will only be officially complete when I am through with all of these things.

The people who have offered me help for this story I can never thank you enough and I would love to mention JanesRedBottle especially for helping me with the occasionally very wonky German : ) blame her for a few of the jokes that came up too XD You are awesome!

So yeah! Enough wasting your time, on with the last leg of the Fic!

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It was a wonderful feeling, waking up next to his lover. Feliciano was still asleep, the sun from the window shining on his face. Ludwig laid there next to him, taking in the sight of everything that was the adorable, little Italian. What a wonderful Christmas morning. He felt almost like a kid again. Well, for the first time really, since he still really couldn't remember his childhood, but oh well. This _must_ have been how it felt to wake up early Christmas morning and find everything you wanted beneath the tree. Feliciano was all he had ever wanted and more.

"Ged ovf me! I tolt you, I'm fine!"

Quiet time over. Ludwig turned over in bed, away from Feliciano and towards the door just in time to see Gilbert trudge by, followed by a worried-looking Matthew.

"You _have_ to have a headache, though."

"Since vhen hev you care't? I doughd you schtoot by dat hangofers ahre my own fauld…" Gilbert unpleasantly spat through the pounding jackhammer in his cranium.

"Well, they are, and I do care, I usually offer you pills. Well, used to anyway." Matthew snorted, vaguely, Ludwig had wondered how such an inoffensive and unobtrusive man had learned to deal with Gilbert, but he was in fine form this morning.

"Vell, I don'd vant dem dis morning. I jus' neet pancakes."

"Gilbert! You **will** take these stupid pills _now_ or I **will not** make you pancakes!" Matthew didn't really yell per se, not in Ludwig's expert opinion anyway, but it had just about the same impact as one. A blonde eyebrow rose as he continued to listen to the two.

"I cah-"

"You know as well as I do, you-"

"If I-"

"It doesn't-"

"I'll sch-"

"Oh, no you won't! Ger-"

"Led him! I cahn-"

"Those bruises on your face say otherwise!" Ludwig blinked, having trouble following the entire conversation since the two always seemed to know how the other was going to respond before they did. He couldn't help a small smile as it tugged at his lips. Finally, Gilbert had found someone that understood him as completely as he understood himself. It might have taken him eight centuries, but he had done it at last. The blonde just sorely hoped the stupid man didn't do something to screw it up.

"Fine, fine, I'll take de damn pills." There was a pause then a very unmanly squeal of surprise.

"Gilbert!" Some loud sputtering occurred and the Prussian burst out laughing. "Urgh! What is your problem this morning?!"

"I'm hungofer, dat's vhat!"

"You never act like this!"

"I cahn'd fucking remember vhat happent lasd nighd! Don'd I hev a righd to be angry?! De contom in my pock'ed is gone und I voke up vid **you**!" He sounded disappointed, angry even. What exactly about, Germany could not say. He seemed so happy at the party last night…

"You woke up next to me in nothing, but your underwear, _naked_ one time, not even a week ago and you didn't act like this!"

"Voult you hev preverrt it if I molesdet you firsd ding in de morning?"

"No! I just think that…" There was a sigh and silence. "You don't remember anything?"

"Nope." Germany pinched the bridge of his nose. That was a blatant lie if he had ever heard one. Prussia was immune to the beast that was long-term memory loss induced by alcohol. At first he of course wouldn't remember, but as he woke up more he would remember. He was an early bird too, most likely he had been out of bed for two hours given the time, it was about seven. His memory of last night would've returned by now and Ludwig distinctly remembered his brother hitting on the young blonde and he smiling about it. Gilbert was denying any such transaction to preserve his own pride. Dumbass.

"Okay, please, Gil? Take these for your headache." There was more silence. "Thank you."

"No prob… Vhat's de madder?"

"Nothing. Want those pancakes?"

"Cahn I ahtleasd _help_ make dem?" Germany snorted in amusement again, he had not known he was in love so his denying feelings was justified, Prussia just didn't want to admit they were there, if they were in fact present. The man was scared, he didn't want to lose the Canadian, but he was being stupid.

"Ve?" Pleasantly surprised, Ludwig turned back to look at Feliciano, his eyes were open and staring in wonder at him. The two remained silent, staring at one another for almost a minute. As if both were equally unable to believe their luck yesterday. If Gilbert hadn't invited Antonio to the party, would Feliciano be… Ludwig shoved those thoughts from his head, they had no place with him.

"Vhat?" Ludwig said quietly, a smile beginning to form on his lips again. Feliciano did not verbally respond, instead he leaned in and planted a "good morning" kiss on the muscular German's lips.

"_Ich liebe dich, Luddi_." Now _that_ had surprised him. Quickly, Germany groped through his limited knowledge of the smaller man's language and came up with only half of the correct response, but it was all that needed to be said.

"_Ti amo Feliciano_." The two smiled and leaned towards each other.

"Hey, _Westen_! Matthew's making pancakes!" Prussia enthusiastically burst into the room. Germany shot up in bed, chucking his pillow at the laughing man.

"_Aus_!!" Prussia swatted the pillow away with ease, cackling despite the splitting headache between his lobes. "_Aus, aus, aus_! _Aus, jetzt!_"

"Kesesesese, I'm nod your dog, make me." Germany roared and jumped from bed, freezing as Prussia's eyes instantly traveled south.

"Gah!" Quickly he wrenched a sheet off the bed, covering his shame. "You dit dat on purpose you damned perferd!"

"Oh? Dit I?" Prussia gave him a confused look before smirking and shrugging. "I'll tell Matthew you guys vant some." he turned to leave, but stopped and looked over his shoulder at Feliciano. "Vere you impresst?"

"Very!" Feliciano replied with a happy grin, patting Ludwig's now fisted hand. The blonde's face turned red as he put two and two together, figuring out what they were talking about. Upon seeing his face, Prussia laughed and sped from the room should Ludwig choose to forgo modesty in favor of beating his ass to a fine-grained pulp. He yelled something to Canada down the hall in the kitchen.

Sighing, Germany sat down on the bed, lacing his and Italy's fingers together.

"I dink… I like mornings like dis." Feliciano sat up and inched closer to the tall blonde, resting his face against his broad shoulders.

"I do too. _Buon Natale_." Germany couldn't help but smile again, looking over his shoulder at the boy he loved. He wouldn't mind every morning being like this one, it all felt different with him now, but if Gilbert had shown him anything this morning, everything was still the same. This feeling blossoming in his chest, maybe it was only the holidays getting to him or maybe it was just how it felt to be in love, either way he hoped this feeling was here to stay.

"_Fröhliche Weihnachten_."

End.

-----

Notes:

Fröhliche Weihnachten--Merry Christmas!

Az istenit--Damn it!

Merde--Shit

Arsch--Ass

Ich liebe dich, Italian--I love you, Italy

Snogged--British slang for kissed

Si--Yes!

Oui--Yes!

Party! Bier & Kostenloses Essen--Party! Beer & Free Food! (With teens, it is acceptable in Germany to say "party" rather than the German word for it)

Gilbert's bad pick up lines--Curiosity of my friend who seems to be a botttomless pit for them XDDD

French Letter--Slang for a condom (I actually didn't know this until reading a Hetalia strip….)

Ti amo Feliciano--Love you Feliciano

Aus--Out!

Aus, jetzt--Out, now!

Buon Natale--Merry Christmas (At least, what I've been told.)

Okay! It's the end… HOLISHIT IT'S THE END! LAST NOTES SECTION!!! D: NUUU! But AHAH! So, really, what did everyone think of it? If you haven't commented thus far, really, comment now, I want to know what _all _of you have to say.

Really, I feel like I could have done so much more with it, but I am satisfied with where it ended and how it ended. Ah, it feels so good to finally say that I have (chapter wise) completed this work, but still there is all the aforementioned editing and revising to do, either way this makes me so happy.

I hope many, if not all of you will continue with me as I start my next big project, which I won't for about a week or so, my elbow is still in pain, I've gotten it checked out by the doctor and they're like "odd that it hurts in the joint itself rather than in the muscle" damn, guess I have arthritis, FML no? Anyway, please comment! I love you all! ;)


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